


finzione

by corsica



Category: JoJo no Kimyouna Bouken | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
Genre: Multi, tags to come
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2017-12-31 10:39:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 53,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1030715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corsica/pseuds/corsica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Several one-shots mostly unconnected. Characters and pairings vary as they come. Mostly AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> silly fic idea floating in my head. giorno is technically dio and jonathan's son. silly idea, silly story. it's kind of dumb oops. i tried to keep them in character best as i can!!! 
> 
> i have a bunch more mostly AU mostly gay fics floating around. they will be posted as i can write them. 
> 
> i hope you enjoy!!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1: Giorno's two daddies

“—Yes. I understand. I hope to see you soon.” Giorno put the phone back on the receiver, smiling warmly. Mista, splayed out on the red velveteen couch, looked up from his manga. 

“Who was that?”

“My father.” Mista put the manga down on his chest, and looked at Giorno incredulously. 

“Your father? You've never mentioned him before.” Mista paused, “Or maybe you have and I just don't remember.”

Giorno gave a small laugh, “I've been quite busy; not much time to talk of my family. Leading one of the largest mafias in Italy takes up most of my time. He's an archaeologist and he's traveling to Rome in a few days; he's staying in Naples for the time being. He hopes to meet with me and see how I'm doing.” 

Mista blinked, “That seems pretty out of the blue.”

Giorno shrugged, “We keep in touch. It's been difficult keeping up with the letters on my end, but, well, I have a bit more time now than I had before.” 

“What's he like? You seem pretty happy to hear from him.” Mista blanched, “Have you, uh, told him about us?” 

Giorno chuckled, “No, not yet. I thought I would tell him today, with you here. He's a polite man, so I doubt he would mind too much about us.” Giorno turned in his chair slightly, staring out the windows, “He's very generous and always puts others before himself. Intelligent, caring, idealistic. I look up to him quite a bit. Sometimes I think he might be a bit disappointed for the, well, “career path” I took, but...”

The phone rang loudly, snapping Giorno out of his thoughts. He answered it swiftly, “Yes, Giorno Giovanna speaking...Oh, hello again. Was there something you forgot to tell me?” Giorno paled, and Mista stifled a laugh at his boss's rare expression, “I...see. And there's nothing you can say to convince him otherwise?....I highly doubt his heart will be broken....He says he's been wanting to see me?” Giorno sighed, his free hand rubbing at his eyes, “All right, but I would prefer it if he didn't stay for long. I'm sure we can go out for dinner another time...He wants to come today?...Well, I should be done with my work in a couple hours. Does 3 o'clock sound good?...Alright, I'll arrange for a driver to pick both of you up. I'll see both of you then.” With a heavy sigh, Giorno placed the phone back on the receiver. 

“The hell was that about?” Mista said, swinging his legs up and off the couch and into a sitting position. 

Giorno rubbed his eyes briefly, sighing heavily and almost painstakingly, “That was my father, again. My...other father wishes to come visit me as well, for reasons unknown.” Giorno gave a slight groan, “My head is killing me.”

“Wait, wait, okay, hold on. Other father? What are you talking about?” Mista scratched the back of his head, now standing up and pacing around, “Are you adopted or something? Are your parents homo?” 

Giorno raised an eyebrow at him, “No, not quite. It's very difficult to explain and I'd rather not go into it. Let's just say they've had a...tumultuous relationship, but they've known each other their entire lives. Apparently he's traveling with my father for...whatever reason.” Giorno leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes.

“Hey, I'm sure he can't be that bad. You don't seem to talk to him often, so maybe he's different or changed or whatever?” 

Giorno hummed, “I have my doubts, but...I do hope so. It's probably just wishful thinking.” Giorno stood, walking over to Mista and eying him. 

“Wh-what? What's wrong?” Mista felt himself blushing, eyes matching Giorno's cool gaze. 

“You'll need to change into something less....gaudy.” Giorno looked down at himself, “As will I, I suppose.” Giorno smiled softly and gently put his hand in Mista's. 

“Let's go find something more appropriate to wear.” 

–

Mista felt terribly under-dressed looking at Giorno. 

He hadn't really had time to go out and buy a suit like Giorno wanted him to. (Okay, that was a lie. He just hadn't wanted to go out shopping for one. Shopping was never his thing, and he only went with Trish as a bag holder because she always bought him gelato afterward.) 

He watched Giorno sift through what ties to wear, holding up a black and white one in front of the mirror, trying to see which one would match his dark red suit. Mista rubbed the back of his head. All he could find was a black turtle neck and some dark slacks—at least he could find a nice-looking jacket so he could shove his gun in the back of his pants without it being too noticeable. He felt painfully bare without his hat, but Giorno had insisted he keep it off. 

Giorno stepped out of the wardrobe having decided on a simple black tie. He fumbled with it briefly before managing to tie it. He buttoned up his suit, putting the tie underneath it. 

Giorno hummed, “Should I keep my hair how it is? I'm sure it won't matter, but...” 

Mista waved his hand absentmindedly, “It's fine. It won't matter.” Mista leaned over and poked Giorno's bangs, “How do you get your hair like this anyway? It's like you have little doughnuts pasted to your head.” 

He laughed, “Very carefully.” He turned to look at Mista, his eyebrow raised, “Is that the nicest thing you could find? Did you ever go get a suit?”

“Er, well, uh what's your um, “other dad” like?” Mista quickly changed the subject, and Giorno's demeanor suddenly turned stony, and he closed his eyes. 

“He's a megalomaniac, and very self-absorbed. There's not many good qualities I can think of that he has.” Giorno sighed, and adjusted his tie, “I don't even understand why he wants to see me. Typically he's never been interested in my livelihood. He's only ever sent me one or two letters, and they were of questionable content. I suppose since I'm the head of Passione he must have heard. Maybe there's some twisted sense of pride because of that.” He shrugged, “It doesn't really matter at this point, I guess. He's going to be here any time, so let's make this as short as possible. Hopefully we can go out to dinner with my real father at some point. For now, though...” He turned to Mista, “How do I look?” 

“You look nice. But, well, is the suit really necessary? It seems a bit, uh, much.” 

Giorno smiled softly, “I would like to look my best for him.” His gaze turned soft and wistful, and Mista briefly thought how young he looked, for once. Giorno leaned his head on Mista, his forehead nearly touching one of Mista's collarbones and his arms hanging limply by his sides. 

“Honestly, I'm nervous. It's been so long since I've seen my father, and with him showing up as well...I just have this churning feeling in my stomach.” Giorno said with a heavy sigh. Mista pulled him closer, one of his hands resting on the back of Giorno's neck. He kissed the top of his head, and rubbed small circles on the small of his back with his other hand. 

“I'm sure it'll go fine. You worry too much.”

“Mmm. You're probably right. Thank you, Mista.”

–

It was not, in fact, going fine. 

It had started off well enough, with Giorno's father—his name was Jonathan Joestar, Mista found out—seemingly overwhelmed at the size of the palazzo. He was very pleasant in personality, but Mista couldn't help but feel a silent fear due to the fact that he was nearly 20 centimeters taller than him and about the size of two people. However, his easy demeanor and warm personality helped Mista feel much more comfortable with him. 

“Ah, Giorno, it's so good to see you! I can't believe the size of this place, I can't imagine how you wouldn't get lost in here.” The hulking brute of a man smiled warmly at Giorno, leaning down to hug him briefly. Jonathan looked toward Mista.

“Oh, you must be ah, Guido Mista! Giorno speaks quite highly of you.” He held out his hand towards Mista, who took it in a firm handshake. Mista gave a sly smile towards Giorno, who shook his head.

“Father, please.” Giorno cleared his throat, and adjusted his tie, “Please, come in. Would you like something to drink?” Jonathan shrugged off his suit jacket, shyly handing it to a butler willing to take it. 

“Oh, no thank you.” Jonathan smoothed out his shirt, and adjusted his suspenders. 

“All right then. Where is...?” Giorno had paused, and glanced behind Jonathan, “Could he not make it?” Giorno asked, voice tinted with hope.

“I would not miss the opportunity to see how the head of Passione is doing!” 

Another hulking brute of a man all but stormed his way towards the trio, decked out in _(Oh my god what is he wearing, Mista thought)_ yellow pants and jacket, and a black shirt underneath, the strangest wing-tipped shoes Mista had ever seen, and...hearts? Were those hearts? 

Mista glanced over at Giorno, who had a polite, forced smile on his face, “Hello, Dio. It is...surprising to see you here.” 

His hair seemed prehensile, and the glint in his eye made it seem like he would absolutely destroy Mista at a moment's notice. Mista gulped, and tried to not look as terrified as he felt. Jonathan looked exasperated, giving Giorno and Mista a pained expression. 

“Haruno, it has been too long since we have seen each other.” He nearly shoved Jonathan out of the way to see Giorno, placing a large hand on his shoulder. Giorno gave a polite, terse smile, gently pushing his hand off his shoulder. 

“Yes it...has been quite a while. And please, call me Giorno. May I offer you something to dri—.” Giorno and Mista watched as Dio threw his coat haphazardly at the butler, showing off his impossibly-sized arms _(Are his biceps larger than his head)._ Mista looked over at Giorno, giving him a desperate expression; Giorno ignored him. 

“I never expected my Haruno—”

“Giorno.”

“—would live in such a grandiose lifestyle.” 

After the initial meet-and-greet, Giorno gave the two a short tour of the palazzo—Mista didn't understand how Giorno kept such a calm face as Dio antagonized the staff—before settling in the parlor. Tea, water, and Italian sodas were brought out along with small cakes and breads. Giorno and Mista sat on one of the exquisite plush couches across from Jonathan and Dio. Giorno sipped calmly on his tea, and Mista held tightly onto his teacup, feeling small and feeble under Dio's gaze. 

“Haruno—” 

“Giorno.”

“—you never introduced this...gentleman to me.” Mista looked up, and Dio flashed him a grin, teeth sharp and gaze piercing. Mista suddenly felt much more fearful than he had before. Giorno matched his gaze coolly, setting his tea down on the glass coffee table.

“This is Guido Mista. He is my top bodyguard and closest ally. He has been with me since my beginnings in Passione.” Giorno crossed his legs, and tented his hands, “I have a small group that works under me that I have been with since the beginning as well, but they are off on an assignment. Mista stays with me regardless.” 

“It is good to know you're being treated so well, Giorno.” Jonathan said politely, grasping the tea in his almost comically-oversized hands. He smiled politely, seemingly ignoring Dio's behavior. 

“As busy as I am, Passione is good to me. I try to treat them equally as well.” Giorno uncrossed his legs, then crossed them again on the opposite side, “How is Naples treating the both of you?” 

“Oh, it's gorgeous. The people are so kind and lively! It's a beautiful city—I've never seen the sea so blue!” Jonathan smiled, but it turned into a quizzical look, “I'm getting more than a few odd looks from the townspeople, though. I wonder why that is.”

Giorno hummed, “It must be because people see you as a tourist. I wouldn't pay too much mind to them.” 

Dio hummed, “I've had more than a few merchants and peddlers come up to me trying to sell their garbage wares. Cretinous wretches; I've had to shove more than a few off.” Jonathan gave Dio an incredulous look, and Mista looked pained. Giorno took a deep breath, before politely smiling at Dio.

“They're simply trying to make an honest living. Ignore them and they should leave you alone. It wouldn't bode well if one of my operatives found you harassing the innocent people.” 

Dio gave a smug grin, “I'll keep that in mind, Haruno.” Giorno glared at him. 

An uncomfortable silence followed, the only sounds being the gardeners and lawnmowers outside. Mista took the time to stare at his hands, avoiding the gaze of the maniacal man with...hearts all over him. Mista felt as though he was ready to strike him or Giorno at any moment. He leaned back in the couch, the feeling of his revolver pressing into his back making him feel more at ease. If anything happened, he could at least move quicker than Dio could. Hopefully.

Mista's thoughts were interrupted by Jonathan clearing his throat and setting his teacup down, “Giorno, could you tell me where the closest washroom is?” 

“Of course. Once you leave this room, turn left and it's the second door on the right. I'm sure somebody can help you if you can't find it.”

“Thank you. I'll be right back, excuse me.” Jonathan swiftly left the room and was out of view. 

Giorno waited briefly before turning his gaze onto Dio, “I'm sure you didn't come here to just exchange pleasantries and “check up” on how I'm doing. What is your ultimatum?” 

Dio gave a bark of laughter, crossing his legs and giving a harsh grin, “You're more perceptive than I assumed, Haruno. You've turned into somebody very capable.”

Giorno narrowed his eyes, “Get to your point.” His eyes darted quickly to Mista, who sat up a little straighter, giving him quicker access to his gun. 

Dio smirked, and stood, crossing his arms, “Very well. I, Dio, would like your help. There is somebody I want dead.”

Giorno quirked his eyebrow, “We're not assassins. We only kill out of absolute necessity.” 

“And this is an absolute necessity, Haruno. There is a man who is trying to link me to the murder of several people. He slanders my name.”

“You want us to kill somebody who is trying to link you to some murders? Wouldn't that make other people even more suspicious of you?”

“To my knowledge, they are the only person suspicious of me—their assumptions are based entirely on that: guesses. Their death means my peace, and I will be out of your hair for as long as you would like.” 

Mista saw Giorno falter, but his hardened gaze returned, “This is ridiculous. I don't even know why I decided to hear you out, let alone allow you inside my palazzo. You're insane. Deal with them yourself” 

Dio threw a knife towards Giorno, missing his head by mere millimeters. Giorno didn't flinch, but Mista took the opportunity to bolt up and point his gun at Dio, waiting for him to make a move. He moved in front of Giorno.

“I assume you're done attempting to negotiate, if I'm correct?” Giorno plucked the knife from the couch before steepling his hands in his lap. 

“You are indeed.” Dio moved closer towards Giorno, second knife at the ready. Mista clicked the safety off on his gun. 

“Take one step closer and you're getting a bullet in the kneecaps.” 

Dio took one step closer to Mista, and carelessly knocked the gun out of his hand.

“Oh.” 

Dio picked Mista up by the collar and threw him into the nearest wall. Mista saw stars, and attempted to pick himself up. He watched as Dio held the knife towards Giorno, and heard his boss grunt in pain. Dio must've cut him.

_Can't focus my vision. Gotta get up._

Giorno already had several cuts on his face, and he glared figurative daggers at Dio as a literal one was held up to his neck, being pressed in deeper by the second.

“My offer stands. Wouldn't you rather have your jugular intact than one dead man on your conscience?” 

“I know who you want me to have killed and honestly, I'd rather have my jugular cut.” Giorno spat, “He's been a better father to me than you ever have or will be. I can't even fathom why you'd think I'd even consider your offer, you lunatic.” 

Dio tsked, “What a shame, Giorno. And here I was thinking you would've taken more after me.” 

The door to the parlor opened, revealing Jonathan was back. Without thinking or hesitating, the archaeologist tackled Dio to the ground, sitting on his back and pinning his hands behind his back. Giorno stood up, and adjusted his suit, watching as several more bodyguards rushed in. Jonathan reluctantly got off Dio, letting the guards do their jobs and having him led out of the palazzo. Giorno walked over to Mista, helping him up. 

“What...happened here? Giorno, your face...!” Jonathan went to assess his son's face, and Giorno attempted to turn his head away. 

“I'm sorry father, but would you ask one of the servants to fetch an ice pack for me?” 

Mista grunted, “M'fine. A little banged up is all.” He touched where his head hit the wall, and winced, “I need to clean your wounds.” He turned to Jonathan, “Sorry Mr. Joestar, but I need to tend to his wounds.” 

With that, Mista took a wounded Giorno into the washroom, leaving behind a completely befuddled Jonathan. 

–

“I thought that went well.”

Mista buried his head in his hands.

“Are you kidding me.” Giorno gave a pleasant hum as Mista wiped any trickling blood away. Giorno sat on the white marble counter top of one of their lavishly decorated bathrooms as Mista leaned over to clean his wounds.

“Giorno, you got stabbed. You're lucky he didn't actually slice your jugular. I can't believe you almost goaded him into it. You're lucky Mr. Joestar was there to help you. I didn't actually think he'd toss me into a wall. Sorry I couldn't be of more use.” Mista sighed, pouring a bit of hydrogen peroxide on a cotton ball, “I'm gonna put the peroxide on you now, so don't move.” 

“Don't dwell on it too much. I was just as stunned as you were when you hit that wall." Giorno sighed, "It could have gone worse. Besides, this way I know he won't try to come back.” Giorno hissed as Mista put the peroxide on his neck, “I doubt he's afraid of me, but this way he knows I am capable of taking care of myself, and not somebody to be trifled with.” Giorno hummed, “I'll have Bucalletti and the others keep their ears to the ground and see if they hear anything about him.” 

Mista finished putting the gauze on his face, and double checked to make sure everything was all right, “Well. I guess I get what you mean about him now. I can't believe he wanted us to kill somebody. I can't believe he wanted us to kill your cool dad.” Mista ran a hand through his hair, sighing, "I still don't understand how you have two dads, but whatever."

“It was pretty preposterous. Of all things, and of all the people he could've come to. How did he think it would work?” Giorno sighed, grasping Mista's shirt putting his head on his collarbone, “I truly thought he, I don't know, might have been different? I feel so stupid.” 

Mista intertwined his fingers with Giorno's free hand and kissed the top of his head, “It's all right Well, no, not really, you got stabbed, but I can understand how you feel. It's been a while since you've even spoken to him, so...I dunno. You know what I mean.”

Giorno smiled, “Yes, I do Mista. Thank you.” Giorno craned his head up and kissed Mista gently and chastely. 

Mista leaned down and kissed him again, much more intensely than Giorno had. Giorno wrapped his arms around Mista's neck, pulling him closer. Mista grasped at the back of his shirt, and hoisted Giorno's legs up a little higher. He groaned as he felt Giorno grind against him, and he nibbled on his boss's bottom lip, before moving down and sucking on the untarnished part of his neck. He left a noticeable mark on his neck before taking his lips again, feeling Giorno's tongue run over his. 

There was a knock on the door before it was opened, revealing Jonathan, “Giorno? It's been a while, I just wanted to see—oh.” 

The two gangsters turned toward Jonathan, eyes wide in shock. Jonathan stuttered and stumbled over his words before yelping an apology and shutting the door loudly. 

“ _Um._ "

–

“I am _so sorry._ ” Giorno bowed, and Mista flatly refused to even look at Jonathan, “I was planning on telling you tomorrow at dinner, but. Well. It seems you found out the hard way.” 

Mista buried his face in his hands. 

Jonathan placed a hand on Giorno's shoulder, “I...well. It's something I don't really quite understand, but...” Jonathan rubbed the back of his neck, “He makes you happy, doesn't he?” 

Mista looked up and over at Giorno, who seemed at a loss for words. He turned to Mista, and blinked. A small smile spread on his face.

“My work is difficult and seems...insurmountable at times, but I feel like I can make a change. Mista is my right hand man. Sometimes I feel like things would be much more difficult without him here.” A light pink dusted Giorno's cheeks, “To answer your question. Yes. He makes me very happy.” Giorno smiled.

Jonathan placed a hand on Giorno's shoulder before pulling him into a warm embrace, “There's still so much for me to understand, but if you're happy then that's all I can ask for.” Jonathan's gaze turned stony, “Dio...I can't believe what he did to you. Just thinking about what he did...!” 

Giorno took his hand in between his own, “It's all right. I have my operatives keeping an ear to the ground for information concerning him. You should watch yourself, I'm sure he's not done harassing us. He did want us to kill you, after all.”

“I just...it's unbelievable. I suppose I should've seen this coming, though. His wanting to see you out of the blue. I'm just glad you're safe.” He turned toward Mista, “Sir Mista, I ask that you take the utmost care of my son. Please keep him safe and happy. I must leave him in your hands.” 

Jonathan held out his hand toward Mista, who cautiously took it, “Um. Of course. I'll be the best I can be.” 

“I'm glad. I'll see you both tomorrow for dinner. Have a lovely day!” With that, Jonathan exited the palazzo and into the car Giorno had prepared for him. 

The young mob boss turned toward Mista, “That went better than I expected. Perhaps we should be more careful with our...ministrations in the future.” 

Mista looked at Giorno, and gave a heavy sigh, “I think I'm gonna go drink an entire bottle of wine. I feel like I deserve it.” Mista tugged on Giorno's hand, “Care to join me?”

Giorno laughed, “What would I do without you, Mista?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2: Stand name: Man, I feel like a woman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more silly dumb things. maybe i'll eventually write something serious. probably not!

“I really don't understand the point of this stand.” 

The user was another of Dio's subordinates, but he wasn't terribly strong or even much of a challenge. Star Platinum took him out fairly easily, but his stand did...something before he died.

“How the hell is this fair?! Jotaro has, like, H-cups!”

The stand had turned all of them into women, and rendered unable to use their stand. Somehow. Kakyoin really didn't want to understand how, only desperately wishing he had his old sex back. 

_Isn't it kind of sexist that we can't use our stands just because we're women?_

Joseph was yelling at Polnareff to shut up and quit bothering Jotaro and help think of a plan, while Abdul simply stood back and looked extremely uncomfortable. Kakyoin crossed his arms, thanking his lucky stars he had been given practically no breasts. He was, however, cursed in other ways of being much shorter and much curvier—his school uniform was practically falling off, being way too loose. Where Jotaro had gotten larger in the chest-region, Kakyoin had noted with some embarrassment how large his bottom felt. 

“I think we should focus on trying to find shelter for the time being. There is a town not too far from here.” Abdul said, finally speaking up. He (she?) wrapped his (her?) too-big cloak around himself (herself?) tighter. 

Kakyoin nodded, “I agree. Maybe it'll just go away if we wait it out. The stand user is already dead, so it must just be a lingering effect. I'd say a day at most. If we just hole up I'm sure we'll be good to go by tomorrow.” 

Joseph gave a gruff-sounding noise of approval, which sounded _really_ strange with a feminine voice, and Kakyoin noted how weird he looked without a beard, “Sounds good to me. We're just sitting ducks now.” Joseph sighed, “Wait 'till I write Suzi about this. I wonder if she'd even believe me.” 

Jotaro elbowed Polnareff in the chest to get him away, causing the Frenchman-woman to double-over in pain. Kakyoin chuckled. 

Kakyoin cleared his throat, “What do you think, Jojo? You think it's good to just wait it out?”

“...” 

“Jotaro?”

“M-my back.” 

–

An hour and a hotel-check in later and Jotaro was laying face down on a bed, head turned in Kakyion's lap, with a heating pad on his back and several pain pills flowing through his system. Apparently all his muscle mass went straight to his chest. 

Or something. Kakyoin had no idea how this worked.

Kakyoin took his hat off—it was half off his now-smaller head anyway, “Look on the bright side, Jotaro. You got a lot of looks your way on to the hotel. Apparently you make a hot girl.” 

Jotaro punched him halfheartedly. 

“Fuck off, Kakyoin.” Jotaro looked up slightly and gave him a harsh glare, his newly-gained ridiculously long black hair falling around him as he did so. 

Jotaro swore, “Feels like there's ten pounds of extra weight on my head. What the hell kind of stand does this anyway?”

Kakyoin shrugged, putting another cherry in his mouth with the free hand that wasn't running through Jotaro's hair, “At least Polnareff can't mock me for being too feminine now. Speaking of which, doesn't he now kind of look like those businesswomen you see in those American movies?” 

Jotaro gave a usual noncommittal grunt, which sounded weird giving his more higher-pitched and womanly voice. He sighed, annoyed, and turned around, head now upwards in Kakyoin's lap. 

“You're even shorter than usual. At least I kept my height.” Kakyoin delicately held up a middle finger at him. 

“At least I can move without having enormous neck and back pain.” 

Jotaro glared at him again.

“This is bullshit.”

–

Dinner at the hotel had been...interesting.

Jotaro had been desperate to not leave the hotel room and wanted to just get some room service, but Polnareff sarcastically insisted on a “girls' night out”. Polnareff all but dragged Jotaro out of the room, but had left to his own devices once they actually got to the bar/restaurant. 

The hotel restaurant was nice if uninspired. The dim lighting coupled with the dark brown and red carpeting and coffee-colored wallpaper made it feel more like the bar part of the restaurant than a mesh of the two. Several couples and persons sat throughout, their voices meshing into a cavalcade of noise. Kakyoin enjoyed the loudness, as Dio wasn't one to attack when large amounts of people were involved. He looked over to his companion next to him, who was sulkily sipping on a beer. Kakyoin looked down at the simple water in his hand—alcohol simply wasn't his thing. 

Kakyoin set his water down and patted Jotaro's back, “We'll be back to normal tomorrow, Jojo.” Jotaro said nothing as he leaned against the bar, seething, and downed the rest of his beer.

Kakyoin spaced out, studying Jotaro's features. He was pretty as a girl, Kakyoin decided, even if he was only going to keep that information to himself. A small nose with thin lips, long eyelashes that accentuated his blue-green eyes well. His skin was absolutely flawless, the stand somehow negating any of the roughness that the weather and fighting had done to him. His long, thick black hair fell across his bare shoulders and down to his waist. 

Joseph's hair had gone long and wavy as well, if slightly thinner. It must've been a Joestar thing. 

Neither of their clothes fit very well. Kakyoin couldn't fit in _any_ of his clothes, the material hanging off so loosely it was almost falling off, and had to buy a white sundress and some brown sandals with the most embarrassed look on his face while Polnareff laughed. 

_Maybe I can give this to mom when I get back as a present so she'll be less mad at me for leaving without any notice._

Jotaro was hardly any better. His coat was too big and heavy on him, and he reluctantly left it back at the hotel room, clad in only his blue jeans with the belts pulled tight and his red tank top that left barely any coverage to his insanely large breasts. 

Kakyoin was taken out of his musings by a hand grabbing his ass. He shrieked and his face turned red, turning around and seeing a lecherous-looking man smiling at him.

“Hey dollface, what's say you and your cute friend come back to my ro—.” Jotaro pushed Kakyoin out of the way and behind him, picking up the man from his collar and throwing him across the room and into some helpless couple's dinner, scaring them senseless.

“Nice to know I can still do that.” Jotaro muttered, adjusting his hat. The man scrambled off the wreckage of the table and walked up to Jotaro, attempting to size him up.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, you bitch?!” 

Kakyoin stepped in-between the two, hastily attempting to diffuse the situation, “Excuse my friend, she's had quite a rough day—.” 

Jotaro pushed Kakyoin aside and behind him once more, staring at him coldly, “You don't have any right to come up and touch her or any other woman.” 

“Oh come on, she should take it as a compliment!” He poked Jotaro in the chest, before Jotaro grabbed his hand and broke his wrist.

The man wailed, and grasped his injured wrist, “I'll kill you, you piece of shit!” With his uninjured hand, he grabbed a switchblade from his pocket, getting into an awkward fighting pose. The restaurant was filled with murmurs, and many patrons turned to onlookers.

Jotaro looked at him, bored, then turned to Kakyoin, “I'll make it quick.” 

Kakyoin watched with some amusement as Jotaro effortlessly knocked the knife out of his hand before punching him with enough force and strength to knock him into a nearby wall. His body left a large dent, and the man slid unconscious to the floor. Jotaro took out a cigarette and lit it, and Kakyoin noted the bruises on his knuckles. 

The onlookers murmuring grew in volume before Jotaro gave a harsh glare, effectively silencing them. 

He glanced at Kakyoin, “Let's go. I knew this was a bad idea.” 

–

The two were back in their shared room, both changed into their too-big pajamas. Joseph hadn't been pleased to learn of the trouble that his grandson had gotten into, but smooth words from Kakyoin helped ease the situation. 

“You're not as strong without Star Platinum. You shouldn't have punched him so hard.” Kakyoin said as he wrapped Jotaro's bloody knuckles. 

The brunette shrugged, blowing a puff of smoke in Kakyoin's face, who grimaced, “He touched your ass. And if it wasn't you, it would've been some other girl.” Jotaro adjusted his hat, “Guys like him piss me off.”

“Didn't expect you to be so chivalrous. Being in a woman's body changing your worldview?” Kakyoin said, voice smarmy. 

Jotaro snorted, “As irritating as they can be, women aren't just things that any guy can just grab on. And as surprising as it sounds, I did listen to mom regarding a few things.” 

Kakyoin hummed in agreement, and finished wrapping up the rest of Jotaro's knuckles, “Your knuckles should be better tomorrow, but try to not punch anything until then.”

Jotaro said nothing, just laying down on the bed with his head in Kakyoin's lap, hat obscuring most of his face, before he gave up and took it off, putting it to the side. Kakyoin leaned back and closed his eyes, absentmindedly playing with Jotaro's hair. 

After an extended period of silence, Jotaro finally spoke up, “You ever see any Miyazaki movies?” 

Kakyoin blinked, slightly surprised, “Yes? That's a random question.” 

“When that guy grabbed you, your hair did that Miyazaki thing.” Jotaro puffed out some smoke, “You know, when the girl gets surprised.” 

Kakyoin's face reddened slightly, “R-really now.”

“Mhm. It does it a lot whenever you get surprised. I figured there wasn't any worth mentioning it because it's not something you can really control.” 

Kakyoin sighed, continuing to rake his fingers through Jotaro's hair, “I was spacing out at the bar earlier. You make a pretty girl, you know.”

Jotaro puffed out the last bit of smoke, putting the cigarette out the ashtray on the end table, “That's not something I really wanted to achieve.” Jotaro brought up one of his hands to move Kakyoin's, and intertwined their fingers. 

Another long silenced fell, and Kakyoin watched Jotaro's chest rise and fall for a while, before finally speaking up once more, “Why did you beat him up so bad, anyway? I could've easily taken care of him, even without Hierophant Green.” 

Jotaro sighed, annoyed, “You're too talkative tonight.”

“I wasn't the one who brought up the Miyazaki thing.” 

Jotaro rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything.

Kakyoin huffed, “I'm curious. I was about two seconds from punching him before you stepped in. You know I can handle myself. I hope you know, anyway.”

Jotaro opened his eyes, giving Kakyoin an unusually intense look, “I already said I don't like guys like him. Besides, I don't...like other people touching you. Regardless of your gender.” Jotaro closed his eyes again, “I overreacted.”

Kakyoin blinked owlishly, before chuckling, “I didn't take you as the jealous type.”

“I'm not. I'm just.” Jotaro paused, and couldn't finish his sentence, settling on glaring at Kakyoin. 

Kakyoin waved his hand absentmindedly, “It's endearing. It's nice to see that you have emotions other than anger and indifference.” 

“I just assume you can understand what I'm feeling.” 

Kakyoin hummed, “I can, for the most part. I just enjoying seeing more than 2 ranges of emotion on your face.” 

A rare, small smile graced Jotaro's face, “I'll keep that in mind.” He looked over at the alarm clock, “We should probably get some rest. We have a lot of ground to make up tomorrow.”

Kakyoin nodded, and Jotaro sat up, allowing Kakyoin to get under the covers. Jotaro followed suit, laying behind Kakyoin. 

“Your breasts are pressing up against my back. It feels really weird, like two big volleyballs.” 

Jotaro made an annoyed noise, and pulled Kakyoin closer, “Shut up.”

–

The next day they were back to normal, as expected. 

Kakyoin relished being back in his own sex. Girls were nice and cute and all, but he would have preferred not having to be one. It was much more trouble than it was worth. 

Jotaro was all but giddy he could walk without ten pounds extra weight on his head and free of back pain. 

“How did your hair grow that long and then revert to it's original length?” Kakyoin asked incredulously, and Jotaro just shrugged.

“Is questioning the logic of that stand at this point really worth it?” Jotaro said, and Kakyoin stared at him quizzically before shrugging.

“Fair enough.”

The two met up with Polnareff, Joseph and Abdul, who all looked incredibly relieved. 

At least Mr. Joestar and Abdul do, Kakyoin said as he pointedly noted Polnareff making small chat with a small group of women, laughing and flirting as if it was—oh who was he kidding, it totally was—second nature.

“Are you two ready? We have a lot of lost time to make up today.” Joseph looked up, eyes shadowed by the brim of his hat, “Hopefully we won't run into any trouble like that again. And Jotaro, try to not beat up any helpless saps today.” 

Jotaro opened his mouth to remind Joseph that the helpless sap had pulled a knife on him, but he kept his mouth shut instead.

Kakyoin pulled on Jotaro's sleeve, smiling politely, “C'mon, let's go.”

–

As they headed out of the city, Kakyoin managed to make eye contact with the man who had grabbed his ass yesterday. He looked confused beyond belief.

Jotaro looked at him, glaring with the intensity of ten thousand suns, and the man stumbled and ran off, half screaming. 

Kakyoin couldn't hold it in, and broke out into peals of laughter so hard tears came out of his eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3: Anasui is without hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was fun to write!! i've been in the mood to write some dumb smut. so i might write it next. who knows!!!!

From the notes of Narciso Anasui:

_Ways into Jolyne's heart and subsequent matrimony:_

_\- “Accidentally” have her trip into me. I'll catch her and gaze deep into her eyes, holding her tightly against me._

“F.F, I need you to trip Jolyne for me.” 

Foo Fighters looked at Anasui, puzzled, “Um, no? Are you crazy?”

“If she trips, I'll be there to catch her in my arms. I just want to hold her.” Anasui hissed, glaring at F.F. 

“You're insane.” F.F whispered back at him, eyeing the walking Jolyne in front of her. 

“Look, she won't be hurt or anything! I'll catch her and gaze into her eyes, and she'll be smitten.” 

F.F’s face fell, “I don't think that's how it works. Just buy her some flowers or something, jeez.”

Anasui sighed, and pulled out his wallet, “Look, I'll give you like 20 bucks. Just do it.”

F.F pondered loudly before shrugging, “Whatever, weirdo.” She pocketed the money, and looked at Jolyne, “Sorry Jolyne.” 

F.F reached her foot up just enough to cause Jolyne to stumble and face plant on the stairs, not at all being caught by Anasui. F.F glared at Anasui.

Jolyne groaned, standing up and rubbing her face, “Ow, man. That's never happened before. I must be tired or something.” 

“J-Jolyne! Are you all right?” F.F said, rushing over to make sure Jolyne was okay.

“Huh? Yeah I'm fine. Just a little clumsy today, I guess.”

Anasui gritted his teeth. Well, that didn't work.

–

_\- Okay, let's try this again. F.F said to just buy her some flowers. Girls like flowers, right? I wonder what Jolyne's favorite flower is. Roses are the symbol of love, so I guess roses will have to do._

“Fifty dollars?!” 

The shopkeeper looked at him, eyebrow raised, “U-um, yes, sir. If you don't have enough, you can buy a dozen for only 20 dollars.” 

Anasui bit his lip angrily, before relenting, shoulders drooping, “No, that's fine. I'll just...charge it, I guess.” 

The shopkeeper smiled brightly, “Would you like to donate a dollar to—.”

“No.”

“But you didn't let me fin—.”

Anasui glared, and promptly shut the shopkeeper up. 

_For Jolyne, I would do anything, even bust my checking account._

Large, beautiful bouquet of roses in hand, Anasui set off for Jolyne's house. With a little luck, perhaps her father would be there, giving him a chance to ask for her hand in marriage. He just hoped her father would agree. 

He strode confidently up to her house, roses gripped tightly in his hand. He took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. A few seconds passed before he rang it again impatiently. He could see a shadow move through the window to the right of him, before he heard the lock on the door turning.

Out popped his blonde beauty, “Oh, Anasui? What are you—whoa.” Jolyne's eyes bugged out at the size of the roses. 

Anasui cleared his throat, all but shoving the bouquet at her, “I bought these for you. Jolyne, I would like to ask for your hand in mar—.” He was interrupted by a string of sneezes. 

Jolyne wiped her watering eyes, “Ugh. I'm sorry, what were you saying?” She sniffled, before sneezing once more.

Anasui blinked, “As I was saying, I bought these flowers for you. I would like to ask for your hand in m—.” Jolyne sneezed several more times in a row, cheeks red and eyes tearing up. She wiped her eyes again, and pushed the flowers away from her.

“I think I might have a pollen allergy. I don't think I can take these. Maybe you can give them to F.F or Hermes? Thanks anyway.” Jolyne gave a polite smile as she slammed the door in his face.

Anasui stood in shocked silence, before throwing the flowers on the ground and stomping on them. 

–

_Mind drawing a blank. I'll need outside interference._

“How was I supposed to know she had a pollen allergy?!” 

Hermes gave a bored sigh, and looked at her watch, “I dunno. Look just get her some chocolate or something. Every girl likes chocolate.” Hermes put her head in her hand, “And why did you destroy those flowers? I totally would've taken them.”

Anasui gave her a harsh look, “They weren't for _you_ , Costello.” 

Hermes rolled her eyes, “Fine, whatever.”

–

_\- Get some chocolate. Girls like chocolate._

20 dollars and 20 minutes later, and Anasui was once again walking towards Jolyne's house, his confidence shot just a little bit. He kept his head held high, though. Perhaps these chocolates would be the key that would unlock Jolyne's heart.

He rang the doorbell, and out came a hulking man at least 15 centimeters taller than him, peering down at Anasui, “What.”

_I'm going to die._

Anasui took a deep breath and collected himself, “I would like to see Jolyne. I bought her these chocolates. I assume you are Jolyne's father. I would like to ask for her hand in mar—.”

“Do any of those chocolates have nuts in them.” He said, more as a statement than a question.

Anasui looked at him oddly, “I...yes...?”

“Jolyne has nut allergy. Goodbye.”

Anasui's hair blew back as the door slammed in his face again. He ripped the box of chocolates in two, sending the chocolates flying everywhere.

–

“A nut _and_ pollen allergy?!” 

Hermes popped her bubble gum, “I'unno what to tell you.” 

“Please Hermes, I'm a desperate man. I just want to show her how much I love her, at any cost.”

Hermes leaned back in the chair, and crossed her ankles, “Well, you could treat her to a nice dinner and then tell her how you feel.” 

–

_\- Treat her to a nice dinner. This is a fool-proof plan; I'm sure Jolyne will heartily accept._

“Wow this was really unexpected. This is a nice place, too.” Jolyne raised an eyebrow, “Are you sure you can afford this?”

 _No._ “Anything for you.”

Jolyne's eyes widened, “That's awfully sweet. It's nice to go out to eat for a change, too. Dad and I usually just eat whatever's around the house, or we just get a pizza or Chinese.”

“You deserve better than some greasy take-out, Jolyne.”

Jolyne furrowed her eyebrows, before offering a small smile, “Thanks. It's nice to hear you say that. You're pretty okay, Anasui.”

Anasui felt touched, and a lapse in the conversation followed. He took the time, studying her gorgeous features. Flawless skin, bright, sparkling green eyes. She was truly beautiful.

His gaze wandered over the restaurant, a large chandelier above the patrons' heads. Several people were dressed up very well, in suits or evening dresses, compared to Anasui's nice button-down and jacket. His eyes continued to wander, until he met eyes with a man so large he looked to be the size and height of two people.

_Wait. Is that._

_Oh god._

Jotaro's eyes widened, and he seemingly excused himself to the person he was with, whom Anasui couldn't see. Anasui felt his heart pound in his ears as the brute came towards him and Jolyne. 

When he neared the table, Anasui saw Jolyne's eyes widened, confused, “Dad? What are you doing here?”

“I told you I was going to meet a friend for dinner tonight. When you told me you were doing the same I didn't expect to see you here.” Anasui felt Jotaro's eyes bore holes into him.

“Well, he said he was going to treat me so I didn't see the point in saying no. Oh, Anasui, this is my father. Dad, this is Anasui.” Jolyne gestured them to each other, and Jotaro made a gruff sound of acknowledgment.

“...I see.” Jotaro glared at him some more, and Anasui felt himself sink deeper into the cushioned chair, “I'll leave you two to your dinner.” 

Jotaro walked away briskly, leaving Anasui to bury his head in his hands. 

–

“This is going very poorly.”

Anasui gave an angry groan, and F.F glanced over at him with a hint of amusement, “Maybe you should just go for it and try to kiss her.”

Anasui scratched his chin, “That might work. It would get my passion for her out in the open, none of this dancing around the issue crap that I've been doing.” 

“Yeah and this way you can stop being a huge creep and finally get your answer and leave me and Hermes alone.” 

Anasui shot her a dirty glare.

–

_\- Just kiss her and show her how much you love and desire her._

Anasui hovered his finger over the doorbell. He really, _really_ hoped this would work.

Finally, he collected his thoughts and rang the doorbell, patiently waiting for her to open the door, and desperately hoping that her terrifying brute of a father wasn't there. 

After what seemed like an eternity, the door finally opened, Jolyne showing her gorgeous, pale face, “Anasui? Did you need something. It seems that you've been coming around a lot lately.” 

Without saying anything, Anasui grabbed her by her shoulders and kissed her.

Her lips were soft and warm, and Anasui felt like he was floating. He had been waiting for this moment for forever. He closed his eyes and relished in the moment. His whole life had lead up to this moment, kissing his beautiful Jolyne.

Jolyne pushed him off and punched him in the face.

“What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?! Are you crazy?!” Jolyne wiped her mouth, glaring at him. 

Anasui rubbed where he had been punched, “Jolyne, I love you. More than anything. You are beautiful, stunning, and I want to marry you. I've been trying to tell you this _for the past week._ ” 

Her face softened, but turned into one of confusion, “What? What are you talking about?”

“I've been trying to tell you for the past week, but all my efforts have been...futile.”

“So the flowers, and the dinner? That was you trying to “woo” me?”

Anasui nodded, “I got you chocolate too, but your father answered the door instead of you. He told me you had a nut allergy. I may have broken the box in half on your porch.” 

Jolyne made a small humming noise, “So that's why our porch was covered in chocolates the other day.” Jolyne made a face, and glared at him, “You destroyed those roses on our porch too. Why didn't you just give them to somebody else? I had to clean that up, you know.”

Anasui ignored the latter part, “Jolyne, I want to ask for your hand in marriage. I love you.” 

She raised an eyebrow, “So you've said.” Jolyne crossed her arms, “I don't think I can marry you.”

“Is it because I haven't asked your father yet? I tried asking him before, but he slammed the door in my face. If you give me a little time I'm sure I can get him to come around.”

Jolyne gave him a weird look, “No, that's not it. I can't marry you because that's weird and you're insane. But, well...” She chewed on her lip contemplatively, “I appreciate what you've been trying to do for me lately, even if it is crazy and stupid. But it's...flattering.” 

A brief silence followed before Jolyne spoke again, “I said I can't marry you, but we can go on a date, if you want. As long as you aren't crazy or anything. And no fancy places this time. Just a burger joint will be fine with me.” 

“You deserve so much better than something like that.” He said, wrinkling his nose, saying “that” with the same distinction as somebody would say “tapeworm”.

Jolyne looked unimpressed, “Do you want to go on a date or not? I won't offer this again, especially because you freak me out a little.” 

“N-no, of course I do. I just didn't expect you to have such simple tastes.” 

Jolyne smiled wryly, “I'm a human being, Anasui, not your idealized version of me.” She began heading back into the house, before turning her head over her shoulder, “You can pick me up at 6 tomorrow. I'll be waiting.”

The door shut behind him, and Anasui felt a weight lift from his shoulders, letting go a breath he didn't know he was holding in. Well, he wasn't marrying her but it was a start. Maybe she would accept his proposal if the date went well.

–

“Wow, Anasui's acting strangely normal, compared to usual. He must really be trying to impress her.” F.F said, face pressed against the glass as she spied on her friends' date. 

Hermes peered through the glass as well, “Yeah, he's acting...human. It's creepy. What do you think will happen if they start dating?”

F.F wrinkled her nose, “Mr. Jotaro doesn't seem like the possessive type so he probably won't care. Still though...it's Anasui and Jolyne. Anasui will probably propose to her every week if he has to.” F.F blanched, “And if they date, they'll start complaining to us about each other.” 

Hermes's face faulted, “This is so weird.”

F.F nodded sagely, “Very weird.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4: PTSD behind the school. PWP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was kind of hard to write??? i did a lot of research about gay sex and man was THAT an interesting experience!!! i tried to keep them mostly in character but man who wouldn't have ptsd after battling and almost dying against an immortal vampire??? golly.

“I have a copy of the key for tomorrow's physics test. I have two, actually.” Kakyoin reached into his pant pocket and pulled out a small, folded paper square, arm reaching to Jotaro whom Kakyoin was sitting back-to-back with.

Jotaro hesitantly took it, “How did you get this?” 

Jotaro could feel Kakyoin shrug, “It was on Fukushima-sensei's desk. It was obscured a little bit, but I had Hierophant move it just enough so I could see all of it.”

The Egypt trip felt like much more of a blur two months later. The fights seemed to meld together, and the only thing he remembered much of was the pain of having his eyes scratched to all hell, and the pain of having his stomach punched so hard he needed twelve hours of extensive surgery and two weeks in a hospital. A story had been fabricated that he had been mugged and stabbed across the eyes and then in the stomach several times. Kakyoin was thankful that neither of his parents were doctors, nor did they know anything about injuries or how specific ones worked. 

_And thank god the Speedwagon Foundation picked up the medical bill._

Either way, he was surprised yet happy to be alive, and his made-up story about being stabbed had formed into a rumor at school about how he had bravely defended an old lady from being mugged before being stabbed; the rumor had somehow won over the hearts of many girls. While flattered, he now greatly understood the amount of irritation Jotaro felt towards his admirers. 

“Here. You haven't eaten much today.” Jotaro said, gently tossing an apple behind him, causing Kakyoin to jump slightly in surprise. 

“Where'd you get this?” 

“That guy to your right. He always brings it for lunch but he never eats it. Figured you should have it.”

“You used Star Platinum, didn't you?” Jotaro made a grunt of acknowledgment. Kakyoin hummed, and bit into the apple. 

Once returning from home, stands, they realized, could be used for really mundane, useful things: grabbing the remote if it was too far away, reaching up for something too high, or cheating on their tests that they weren't going to use the information for anyway. Joseph had begrudged them for doing so, annoyed that they were using their stands for such mundane purposes, before Jotaro had caught him using Hermit Purple to grab his too-far away hat. 

Since then, they've been left to their own devices. 

“Chiba-sensei is up next. Are you prepared for the droning?” Kakyoin drawled sarcastically, taking another bite out of the apple. He heard Jotaro let out a slight, angry sigh. 

“I was planning on not going. Care to join me?” 

Kakyoin swallowed the apple piece he was chewing, before shrugging, “I suppose so. She's covering a topic I'm already familiar with, so I wouldn't be missing out on much by skipping it.” 

“Behind the building?”

“Sure.”

–

Jotaro's head rested on Kakyoin's as he puffed out smoke, his arms wrapped loosely around Kakyoin's stomach. Kakyoin leaned back into Jotaro's chest, resting his eyes. They sat behind the school, underneath a few trees and near the dumpsters. It was their go-to place for whenever they decided to skip class, which was often. The surrounding forest gave it a calm, relaxing, serene feeling.

Traveling to Egypt for a few months to fight and beat an evil, immortal vampire and his cronies made adjusting to everyday life a bit difficult. Perhaps it could be chalked up to something like PTSD, but whatever it was, the two students could find little to engage them in a regular school setting. 

Kakyoin's parents had been getting on his case about how apathetic he had been about most things lately, the rift between him and his parents getting so large that he had opted to stay with Jotaro and Holly for the time being. Jotaro had it no better, hearing Holly's frequent calls to Joseph about how “different” Jotaro had seemed lately. 

Kakyoin still had dreams about being hurled into a water tower, a chunk of himself missing. Dreams of watching Abdul get obliterated. Dreams where nobody survived. Jotaro had divulged the same information to him, discussing how he'd been to late to defeat Dio and his mother died, or Polnareff was too late getting to him when he was playing dead against Dio. In the end, the two students only really had each other to discuss what happened in Egypt.

It was things like that which made the return to a normal school life tedious at best, and frustrating as all hell at worst. 

“Do you still think about Egypt, or is it finally out of your brain at this point?”

Kakyoin was snapped out of his thoughts, “Hm?”

Jotaro put his cigarette out on the pavement, “Egypt. The trip.”

“Oh, right. Well yeah, I do, but I wish for the most part that I would forget. It's hard to not remember, though.” He felt Jotaro's grip around his stomach tighten slightly.

“I've thought about trying to explain it to mom, but she's too flighty and annoying to really understand.” Jotaro buried his face in Kakyoin's hair, gripping him snugly, “I still think about how we almost died. All the injuries we all got.” 

Kakyoin hummed, “I don't think there would've been a way for us to get out of that scrape-free. Dio didn't seem to be the type to listen to reason.” 

There was a brief silence before Jotaro spoke again, “I dream about it a lot still. About you going flying into that water tower. Seeing Abdul get...erased. Watching Gramps get the blood sucked out of him.” Jotaro was silent for a bit before speaking again, “Dio threw an entire boat at me, you know.”

Kakyoin broke out in laughter, and covered his mouth, “Sorry. It just sounds so ridiculous.” Kakyoin's laughs subsided, and he sighed wistfully, “I still think about it a lot too. I'm sure Mr. Joestar and Polnareff do too. Especially Mr. Joestar, considering what he did in his youth. Still it's...a lot to process. Even after it's over.” 

Kakyoin sighed solemnly, “I have the dreams still, too. I've probably told you about them before, but...it's not easy to just get thrown back into regular high school life once it's all over. I still think about the people I killed. Even though they were terrible, awful people, it just...sticks with you.”

Jotaro didn't say anything, simply moving his head and tilting up Kakyoin's to gently kiss him. Kakyoin reciprocated, before breaking off the kiss and taking Jotaro's hand in his.

“You're being more affectionate than usual today. That is, to say, you're being affectionate.” Kakyoin smiled slightly, “I'm not complaining, but it is a little out of character for you.”

Jotaro snorted, before resting his head on Kakyoin's shoulder, “Just been thinking about Egypt lately. You gain a new perspective on things after you see people you give a shit about almost, or do, die.” 

Kakyoin opened his mouth to respond, before feeling Jotaro's mouth on his neck, nipping and licking the soft skin. Kakyoin's eyes widened, and he bit his lip.

“Is this really the time or place for this?”

He saw one of Jotaro's hands move up to unbutton his green coat, and he inhaled sharply, “I don't care. I just.” Jotaro sighed, frustrated, “I want to make sure you're really alive. Some days it just feels like a blur.” 

Kakyoin gently got out of Jotaro's hold, standing up and taking off his jacket. He heard Jotaro shuffling as well, and he turned his head slightly to see Jotaro standing up.

“At least let me take off my damn jacket first. It's easier for me to take it off myself.” Kakyoin said, folding his jacket up and tossing it on the ground, “I understand you're happy I'm alive but the sudden mood change is a bit jarring.” 

Kakyoin felt Jotaro on him again, one bare arm—he must've taken his jacket off as well—around his waist and the other one under his shirt, pushing it up. He could feel Jotaro sucking and nipping high on his neck, planning on leaving bright, noticeable red marks. Kakyoin shuddered, leaning into his mouth and grasping at the hand that was underneath his shirt. His thoughts turned hazy, but he wasn't about to lose to Jotaro.

He could hear a confused noise from Jotaro before he turned around and saw Hierophant wrapped around him, securing his hands behind his back. Kakyoin pushed him up against a nearby wall and leaned in, smiling politely.

Jotaro huffed, “This is cheating.” 

He narrowed his eyes, glaring down at the smug Kakyoin, who fisted his hands in Jotaro's snug tank top and kissed him, standing on his toes. Jotaro kissed back aggressively, attempting to make up for his lack of hands, moving his tongue against Kakyoin's, hearing small moans come out of the lithe man's mouth. Kakyoin gave a hearty moan as Jotaro grinded his hips against him. Kakyoin's hands moved into Jotaro's hair, knocking his cap off and tangling his fingers in his short, dark hair. Kakyoin grinded against Jotaro and gave a slight smile when he noticed Jotaro was as hard as he was.

Kakyoin's eyes widened as he felt hands groping his ass, and he turned his head to see Star Platinum gripping and grinding into him. He gave Jotaro a dirty look.

“You hypocrite.” 

“Let my hands go and I won't have you stripped bare.” He said, watching as Star Platinum began to undo the buttons on Kakyoin's white button-down, leaving his chest open, nuzzling the crook of his neck. Kakyoin groaned as Jotaro's stand grinded into his ass again.

Kakyoin averted Jotaro's gaze as his face reddened, feeling Star Platinum move his hands to his chest. He felt Jotaro lean down and begin marking his neck again while Star Platinum grabbed and caressed all over his chest, hands getting lower and beginning to pull off his pants. Kakyoin was sandwiched between them, and he grasped onto Jotaro's shirt for leverage as Star Platinum's hands got dangerously close to his crotch.

Kakyoin gave a pained sound and released Hierophant Green and felt Jotaro immediately switch their positions, Star Platinum now gone, pushing Kakyoin up against the wall. Kakyoin gave a halfhearted glare at Jotaro as he pulled up his pants, and Jotaro crushed Kakyoin's lips against his own. He felt Jotaro haul one of his legs up to his waist, and grinded their crotches together. Kakyoin moaned, face red, and panted harshly once Jotaro broke the kiss as he moved down to his chest. 

“We're going...to get caught...” Kakyoin said, in-between breathy pants. He exhaled harshly, with an “oh god” as Jotaro took one of his nipples in his mouth, gently biting it. Kakyoin wrapped his arms tightly around Jotaro's neck, one of his hands grasping his hair once more. 

“We're on the gym side,” He said, and bit Kakyoin's collarbone, “Nobody is going to be using the gym,” Jotaro trailed his free hand to Kakyoin's other leg, pulling it up, “Until basketball club at four.”

Jotaro crushed their lips together again, and Kakyoin wrapped his legs around Jotaro's waist, leaving Jotaro's hands free. He used one of his free hands to grab Kakyoin's ass and haul him up slightly, and used his other one to tweak and pinch one of his nipples. Kakyoin broke off the kiss, gasping and moaning, and Jotaro latched onto his neck again, kissing and biting once more. He ran his tongue down Kakyoin's neck and to his other nipple, biting and wrapping his tongue around it, hand squeezing Kakyoin's ass as he did so. 

“Jotaro...” Kakyoin moaned his name wantonly, feeling Jotaro squeeze his ass through his pants again, his mouth trailing kisses up to Kakyoin's shoulder and biting it, causing the redhead to gasp and writhe against Jotaro.

Kakyoin shakily removed one of his hands from around Jotaro's neck, trailing it down his toned chest, before applying pressure and grabbing his crotch. Jotaro cursed, and bucked into his hand, desperate for the friction. Kakyoin unzipped his jeans, feeling the hard bulge more prominently against his palm. He reached down into Jotaro's boxers and pulled out his cock, gently squeezing and tugging on it, running his thumb over the sensitive head, his hand moving down to gently cup and squeeze Jotaro's balls. 

Jotaro let out a string of curses before taking Kakyoin's mouth in his once more, taking Kakyoin's lower lip and gently nibbling on it before sloppily open-mouth kissing him. The hand he was using to tease his nipples moved down to Kakyoin's own crotch, grabbing his hard cock through his green pants and rubbing his palm against it. He moaned into Jotaro's mouth, feeling Jotaro's tongue intertwine with his own. 

He unzipped Kakyoin's pants, taking out his cock and jerking it, his thumb rubbing over the head. Kakyoin's free hand dug his fingernails into Jotaro's back, disinterested in whether or not he was hurting him. 

Jotaro gritted his teeth, breathing harshly as he swatted Kakyoin's hand away, before wrapping his hand around both of their cocks, rubbing and tugging them together. Kakyoin moved his hand back up to Jotaro's shirt, tugging him in even closer and biting his shoulder. 

“Fuck, Noriaki.” Jotaro hissed, kissing Kakyoin sloppily as his tugs grew quicker and more erratic; Kakyoin could tell he was close. Kakyoin moaned Jotaro's name back at him, before dropping the hand that was at Jotaro's shirt and wrapping it around Jotaro's, jerking and tugging with him. Kakyoin let out an unabashedly loud moan as Jotaro's thumb swiped over his head, rubbing over it continuously as he tugged Kakyoin's cock. 

Kakyoin felt the pressure inside him build up more and more, and he knew he was close. He opened his eyes slightly, meeting Jotaro's squinted ones. His eyebrows were furrowed and concentrated, and sweat was showing on his forehead. His face was slightly tinted red, and his hair was disheveled from Kakyoin's constant grabbing of it. He was panting hard, as was Kakyoin, and he was staring at Kakyoin's face intensely with dilated pupils. 

Jotaro leaned in to kiss him with unusual passion and intensity, squeezing his ass as he did so. Kakyoin gasped and groaned, feeling his mind go blank and the pressure inside him releasing. Jotaro grunted and bit down on Kakyoin's lip, coming on his own hand with Kakyoin. 

The two stayed in their position for a time, catching their breath and coming down from their high. Jotaro wiped his hand on his pants, giving absolutely no fucks, and wrapped his free arm around Kakyoin's back and resting his hand in his hair, pulling him tightly to his chest and making sure he didn't start sliding down the concrete wall he was pressed against. 

Kakyoin rested his head against Jotaro's chest, listening to his heartbeat slow down, “We should probably stop skipping class.” 

“...thought you might say that.” He felt Jotaro kiss the top of his head. 

Kakyoin dropped his legs from around Jotaro's waist, and swayed slightly, unbalanced from the lack of energy he had. Jotaro helped steady Kakyoin, and kept his hold on him, keeping him held tightly to his chest. Kakyoin weakly grabbed his shirt, feeling centered.

“...Didn't realize that talking about the trauma we endured in Egypt would get you like this. Your fetishes are getting very specific.” He could practically hear Jotaro roll his eyes, and the hands steadying him were removed to allow the both of them to clean themselves up. 

Kakyoin shakily buttoned up his shirt, and put back on his coat that Jotaro had thrown at him. He zipped up his pants and ran his fingers through his hair, making sure his appearance was at least presentable. Jotaro had fixed himself up as well, and was quick to pull Kakyoin back down in their original position of sitting against the wall. Kakyoin sighed and relented, allowing himself to be pulled down and held against Jotaro's chest. Kakyoin shivered, and Jotaro pulled him closer, wrapping his overly-large trench coat around Kakyoin and warming him up. 

“You called me by my first name. You should do it more, I like it.” Kakyoin said, sinking slightly and allowing Jotaro to place his chin on top of Kakyoin's head. Jotaro said nothing, simply burying his face in Kakyoin's hair once again.

“...I think I'm going to contact Mr. Joestar and Polnareff. Ask them how things are going with them. I think enough is...enough.” 

Jotaro gripped Kakyoin tightly, and made a quiet noise of acknowledgment, “...Might do the same. Gramps would understand, even if he is a pain in the ass.” 

“I'll go back to my parents' house in a couple days.” 

Jotaro placed gentle kisses on Kakyoin's neck, and Kakyoin hummed, “Before I go back, though, would you mind if we tried some more things with Hierophant and Star Platinum?” 

Jotaro chuckled, “Just warn me first.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5: Homesickness strikes even the most resolute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow it feels like i haven't updated in a while!! i'm sorry if it feels that way too! i just got my new tablet so i'm probably going to be drawing a lot!! i am sorry for the jotaro/kakyoin spam but man i like that pairing. also!! if you have a story idea for me feel free to let me know!!! also i probably made jotaro a little OOC but oh well!!

“Stand using rats?” 

“Yeah.” Jotaro said, adjusting his hat as well as the phone receiver, “They were pretty annoying. Nearly got my damn hand melted off. Josuke did a good job at taking them out, though. He's gotten more competent.” 

“Any news on the stand arrow?” 

Jotaro gave a frustrated sigh, “No, nothing new. I've been keeping my ear to the ground but nothing has been happening lately. I'll keep you updated as best I can.” Jotaro leaned back in the chair, frustrated, “What's that noise in the background?” 

“Jolyne is watching Pokemon re-runs. There was some sort of gas leak at her school, so they had to shut it down for the time being. She keeps asking about you; I told you we should've come with you.” 

Jotaro closed his eyes, and rubbed one of his temples, “I didn't want her or you getting involved and possibly getting hurt. You don't need another hole in your body. I'll be back once I'm done with this. Tell her we'll go to Disney World once I get back.”

He heard Kakyoin making a quiet humming noise, nearly drowned out by the television in the background, “All right. It should be pretty late in Morioh. You should get some rest.” 

“I've got to finish going over these reports. I'll call you tomorrow. Tell Jolyne the usual.”

“Mhm. I'll put her on the phone tomorrow, I'm sure she'd like to hear you. Get some rest, and come back to us safely.”

“Yeah. Talk to you tomorrow.” Jotaro hung up the phone, and ran a hand through his hair as he looked down at the jumbled research strewn about the hotel desk. 

His mind raced with contradicting and frustrating thoughts as he attempted to get some work done, but to no avail. He gave an irritated sigh and adjusted his cap, standing abruptly from the chair and grabbing his hotel key. 

He needed some air.

–

The silence that hung in the air around nighttime Morioh helped ease Jotaro's thoughts somewhat. He barely had any idea of where he was going, simply wanting to clear his thoughts away from his daughter. 

_She's going to grow up to hate me._ Jotaro took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair, _At least it'll keep her out of this whole business. Kakyoin too._

As competent Jotaro knew Kakyoin was with taking care of himself, keeping him away would be for the best. He'd almost gotten killed in Egypt, and with the insane stand business Jotaro typically dealt with when not researching marine life, the farther (and safer) he kept his family, the better.

Still. They were a continent and a half away in Florida, and Jotaro was still human enough to feel some pang of homesickness. 

He wandered aimlessly more through Morioh, before coming upon a small park, dimly lit by the streetlights. He made his way towards one of the metal benches and sat down and pulled his coat in further, the night air chilly and stale. 

He sighed and pulled out his wallet, staring at one of the few pictures they had taken of Jolyne as a baby. Jotaro didn't understand the point of having more than a couple pictures taken, but Kakyoin insisted upon getting more than the absolute bare minimum. 

Secretly, he thanked Kakyoin for pushing him, but he would never let him know he was right. He'd be way too smug about it. 

“Jotaro-san?” 

Jotaro looked up at the sound of his name and saw Josuke lightly jogging towards him, hand raised and waving at him. 

Jotaro stared at him evenly, “What are you doing out this late?” 

“Eh I couldn't sleep. Sometimes I like to take walks around town when I'm wide awake at night. Mom knows I can take care of myself, so she doesn't worry about me too much.” Josuke stood awkwardly for a second, and rubbed the back of his neck, “Mind if I uh, join you?”

“I don't care.” Jotaro said, and scooted over slightly, giving Josuke enough room to sit beside him. 

“What's got you out here so late anyway? Don't you have like...important work stuff to do?” 

Jotaro stared at him coolly before relaxing his eyes, “Needed to clear my head. I have a lot of things running through my mind.” 

“Eh? You seem so cool and collected all the time. It must be something big to get you like this.” Jotaro looked at him and raised his eyebrow, causing Josuke to become flustered, “N-not that you're that different from usual! I guess it's just a little weird to see you like this? Oh man I'm rambling.”

Jotaro stared at him, a hint of confusion on his face, “You're not making any sense.”

“Well, I guess what I'm trying to say is, well, what's got you so uh, like this?” 

Jotaro adjusted his hat, “It doesn't concern you.”

Josuke let out a small “oh”, before leaning back in the bench and rubbing his hands together to create warmth. A long, uncomfortable silence fell, with Josuke running through scenarios in his head that could make Jotaro this restless. 

“Oh, I know! You must have a family or something, right? You must miss them.”

“Josuke...”

“Hey, it's totally normal for a guy to miss his family. Humor me here!”

Jotaro sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Yeah. They live in America, in Florida.” 

Josuke whistled, “Wow, you came a long ways, then.”

“I'm aware.”

Josuke smiled at him nervously, “Well why didn't you just bring them with you?” Josuke paused, and scratched his head, “Well, in hindsight it might've not been that great of an idea, what with the stand arrow and all the really weird stuff that's been going around town lately, but, well...”

“I didn't want them getting involved. I've got a seven-year-old daughter who likes Pokemon and Sailor Moon and I would like to keep her as far away from any stand related business as I can.”

“Daughter? You have a _daughter?_ ” 

Jotaro looked at him once more, face blank, and Josuke smiled politely at him. Jotaro adjusted his hat, a muttered “ _yare yare daze_ ” barely heard under his breath.

“W-well what about your wife? Shouldn't she know about all this stand business?” 

“I don't have a wife.” 

“Ehhhh?! But you have a daughter, how do you not have a wife?” Josuke became eerily quiet, and his face became more stony and sorrowful, “Oh. I-I didn't realize that she passed away.”

“She didn't pass away.”

Josuke's face fell, and he ran a hand through his hair, “I'm very confused right now.” 

Jotaro ignored his confusion, “My partner can use a stand, but I didn't want him coming either. He traveled with me to Egypt and almost got himself killed, so I would like him away from the fighting if possible. I thought I would just be informing you of Joseph's will. I didn't realize it would be so...involved.”

“Partner? Like...like somebody to help you with the stand business? Or—wait. _Ohhhhh_.”

Jotaro sighed. 

“Well. Okay. Um! Well when I was little, whenever mom would go away to a teachers' conference in another city I would grab something physical like a blanket or something that she used a lot and I would use it and that helped me not miss her as much?” Josuke sweated, and looked up at Jotaro awkwardly, “I probably sound really lame now but maybe something like that would help your daughter?” 

“I have a feeling you don't mean that just for my daughter.”

“W-well hey, whatever works, works, right?” 

Jotaro crossed his arms, and looked up at the starry sky in a blank daze, “Maybe.” 

“Well I know it seems like you're trying to keep her safe and all but like, just leaving without giving your daughter any information, doesn't it seem like kind of a...I dunno...a...dick move?”

Jotaro glared at him.

“N-Not that I'm telling you how to run your life or anything, but if my daughter hated me I don't know what I'd do, you know? It would just break my heart, you know? Family is all you've got.” 

Jotaro didn't say anything, simply moving his hat so it obscured his eyes.

“Well. I should probably be going home soon. Mom might start worrying if I'm out too late. I'll let you know if I hear anything, Jotaro-san! Have a good night.”

Jotaro watched as Josuke walked away and became nothing but a dot in the distance. Jotaro sighed and smiled slightly, just slightly, and stretched out on the bench, putting his arms behind his neck and crossing his legs. 

–

“I'm sorry, it's so incredulous I could hardly believe it. One more time, please?”

Jotaro growled, “Stop being a smartass, Kakyoin.” 

He could _hear_ Kakyoin's shit-eating grin, “I'm not being a smartass, I simply didn't hear what you just said.” 

Christ, “Josuke indirectly told me to have something physical so I wouldn't get homesick. Since I suspect I'll be here for a while longer, would you mind sending me a couple of things. Are you happy?” 

“The almighty Kujo Jotaro has homesickness?” Kakyoin hummed, “I suppose I can send some things. Just give me your address and I'll see what I can muster up. Still, this is rare from you. Josuke-kun seems to be good for you.” 

“He's a pain in the ass and so are you.” Jotaro sighed, and a short silence followed, “Could you put Jolyne on?” 

“Of course. One minute.” Jotaro heard Kakyoin calling to Jolyne and the shuffling sounds that followed was soon replaced with a soft “hello?” 

“Hey. It's me.” 

“Dad? Is something wrong?”

“No, I just.” Jotaro took a deep breath, “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“O-oh! Um, well, I'm okay. Did Papa tell you that there was a gas leak at school? It's not gonna get cleared up until next week, or at least that's what Hermes said. I like not being at school but it gets kinda boring at home sometimes. Papa said we were gonna go to Disney World when you got back, though!” 

“Y-yeah, we will. Promise.”

A brief silence followed, before Jolyne spoke again, “Next time you go on a trip can I come with you? I wanna see all the neat stuff you study! Hermes told me that there are these really cool dolphins in um...in the Amazon! They're pink and stuff and they're really neat!”

“I'll see if you can come next time. Just be good for Papa, okay?” 

“I'm being great! Papa, aren't I being good?” Jotaro heard a faint “yes you are, dear” in the background, “See? I'm being great!” 

“I thought you would be. I have to go now, okay? I'll talk to you as soon as I can. Could you pass the phone back to Papa?”

He heard a sad noise come from Jolyne, “Okay...I love you, dad!” 

“I love you too.” He heard more shuffling as the phone was passed back to Kakyoin.

“We'll fly out in a heartbeat if you need us to. Just say the word.”

“I know. I'll be fine. Just send the stuff.” 

He heard Kakyoin chuckle, “All right. Stay safe. _Aishiteru._ ”

“ _Ore mo anata o aishite._ ” 

–

Three weeks later and a small package covered in simple brown paper and twine arrived. Jotaro had cut open the package with some difficulty before opening it up and revealing a small pair of cherry earrings and a butterfly key chain. 

What he didn't expect was the simple crayon drawing of himself, Kakyoin and Jolyne holding hands—well, sticks that apparently served as hands—and standing in front of their simple one-story house. Apparently Jolyne and Kakyoin had collaborated on it, with the house looking much cleaner and generally above the skill level of a seven-year-old with Crayola crayons. 

_To: Daddy_

_Love: Noriaki and Jolyne_

Each had signed their name with a cherry and a butterfly by their names, respectively. Jotaro looked at the three things he had gotten and smiled, small but genuine. He stared at it longingly, before wiping his eye with his free hand.

There must've been some dust in the room.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 6: Giorno, Mista, and the events of Stone Ocean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh man i'm kind of iffy on this one but i do like certain parts of it!! i'll write more smut next chapter i promise!!

“We're going to Florida. Pack your things.” 

Giorno threw a suitcase on the king-sized, jostling Mista even more awake. Mista groaned, stretching out and staring blankly at Giorno.

“Giorno. It's...6 in the goddamn morning. You should know by now I'm not a morning person.” Giorno looked at Mista, decidedly unimpressed, “Why on such short notice? If we were taking a vacation you could've told me earlier.” 

“It's not a vacation. And shower quickly, we need to get going. I'll tell you more once we're actually on the jet. I don't have a lot of time to explain now.” 

Mista grumbled, and literally rolled out of bed. He glanced over at Giorno, surprisingly under dressed in a simple black long-sleeved shirt and beige slacks. He was in the process of already folding and putting a few of Mista's clothes into the suitcase. Mista grabbed him by the arm and kissed him, and Giorno scrunched up his nose once he broke away.

“Your breath is terrible. Now go shower, and brush your teeth well while you're at it.” Giorno jumped in surprise, then glared at Mista after his ass was slapped while Mista headed towards the bathroom. 

His shower was as quick as he could make it, and Mista grimaced as he looked at his stubble; he probably didn't have time to shave. He shrugged and walked out of the bathroom with a towel hanging loosely around his waist. He was greeted with a pair of jeans and an orange t-shirt thrown at his head.

“You couldn't have waited the two seconds it would've taken me to just grab these clothes?” 

Giorno stared at him evenly, “Like I said, I'm in a hurry. I've already packed a good majority of your things. Double-check for me that I got everything you'd want while I grab a few of my things. If we can be out of the palazzo in the next 10 minutes that would be ideal.” 

“10 minutes? Well, I'll see what I can do.” Mista knew better to question his boss when he was like this. He just hoped the 16 hour plane trip would be worth it. Maybe he could go to Disney World. 

Mista grunted, and zipped up his jeans, “I just hope this'll be worth it. You seem really on edge because of...whatever this is.” 

“I've...been on edge for a couple of days.” Giorno sighed, and stopped hustling around to pack things, “To be honest, I don't even know why. I just...I need to go to Florida before it's too late. I don't even know what's going to be “too late”, but I just have this...feeling.” Giorno wrapped his arms around himself, “I just have this terribly foreboding feeling.” 

Mista came up from behind Giorno and wrapped his arms around him, “I'm sure it's nothing. Well, I hope it's nothing. Maybe once we get all this resolved we can go to Disney World? I hear Epcot has great beer.” 

Giorno smiled, “Perhaps. But let's focus on the task at hand first.”

–

Mista downed his beer, then glanced at Giorno, “So what's with this “foreboding feeling” you've got that's causing us to drag our asses all the way to America?” 

Giorno looked at Mista as unimpressed as possible, “Like I said, there's not a lot to it. Oh! Well, I have been in touch with the Speedwagon Foundation recently. They've told me Jotaro Kujo, my biological great-great nephew, is in a coma.”

“Wait, great-great nephew? He was Polnareff's friend, right? Isn't he like...40?” Mista raised an eyebrow at Giorno, who sighed.

“It's...complicated. From what they've told me, apparently there's a stand user who can remove stands from people. That's not really the whole reason we're going though. It's just...I feel like I'm being dragged there, if that makes any sense.” Giorno rubbed his temples, “Like it's some sort of gravity that's just drawing me there. I don't know how to explain it.” 

Mista rubbed the back of his neck, “Well, I mean, I don't really get it. I'll have your back, whatever goes down, though. Th-though, with your stand I doubt you'd really need it.” 

Giorno smiled warmly at Mista, “It's all right. I appreciate you being here. I feel more at ease.” 

“How did you even get a private jet? When did you even get one?” 

“A while ago. I was hoping to do more branching out and providing more aid, specifically to the Speedwagon Foundation. They don't have too many European subsidiaries, so I've been doing what I can to help out. They have also been providing us with helpful information concerning stands as well as giving us any technology we made need. Such as...” Giorno gestured to the jet, “I thought I had told you about my acquiring of this. I must've forgotten.” 

Mista whistled, “Jeez. How did your nephew fall into a coma anyway?”

“The stand user who can steal stands, the one I just told you about, can also steal memories in the forms of discs. Apparently Jotaro's daughter managed to retrieve his stand disc, but not his memory one, which is causing him to be alive and generally healthy, but in a coma.” Giorno hummed, “I'm assuming she's trying to get back his memory disc as well, but...” 

“From what Polnareff told us, somebody like that Kujo guy getting put into a state like that, the stand guy who attacked him must be pretty hot shit to be able to do something like that.” 

Giorno nodded pensively, “Yes, and that's what I'm worried about. I have a feeling that our stand user might be the reason I've been feeling so apprehensive and on edge lately.” 

“We'll figure it out, I'm sure.” Mista unbuckled his seat belt and shakily stepped over to where Giorno was sitting, sitting in the seat next to him. Giorno raised an eyebrow at him

“What are you doing?”

“I'm sitting by you. It's weird not being by you.” Mista kissed Giorno's temple, and lifted up the armrest in-between them before linking their fingers together.

Giorno rolled his eyes, “If one of the dainty, female flight attendants tries anything, I'll be sure to depend on you, Mista.”

“You're damn right you will.”

–

“Mista, the plane has landed...Mista, get up. Mista you're drooling on me” Giorno hissed, shaking his partner and bodyguard violently. Mista awake suddenly with a snort, reflexively grabbing for his gun before realizing where he was.

“Nnh-huh? Oh, right. Well we finally landed.” 

“You were asleep for nine hours.” Giorno deadpanned. 

Mista rubbed the back of his neck, “Anyway, what's the game plan? Do we have a hotel or something?”

“Of course. It's a high-end one in Orlando. You've brushed up on your English, correct?” 

Mista waved his hand, “Eh, I know enough to get by. You can take over if I don't know something.” 

Giorno hummed, and retrieved the small amounts of luggage he brought on the plane with him, dragging the half-conscious Mista along with him. 

They got to their hotel with relative ease, Giorno somewhat tense, as he was a bit unnerved by the way Americans drove. The chauffeur tipped his hat to Giorno and headed off after unloading their bags for them. 

The hotel was elegant and elaborate, the inside decorated with lavish, expensive-looking paintings and ornate furniture in deep reds. It briefly reminded Mista of the palazzo where they lived, seeing how Giorno seemed to relish in keeping their home as extravagant as possible. 

Their room was no less impressive, with a large living area with several plush couches and armchairs that broke off into a spacious, gorgeous bedroom with a king-sized bed and blankets that looked like they were 500 count. The bathroom was nearly sparkling, a large shower with enough space for about five people to fit comfortably, and a tub with jets in the side. Mista couldn't help but be impressed.

“You didn't spare any expense, did you?”

Giorno shrugged, before stripping of his pants and shirt to change into something more comfortable, “I don't understand how people live here. It's so muggy.”

“Eh, it doesn't seem all that...different...from Italy...” Mista's thoughts came to a halt as he saw something fall past the window. He rushed towards it, and saw hundreds of snails coming down as if they were rain.

“Um. Giorno. You might. Want to see this.” 

Giorno walked over as he put on a t-shirt and jeans, his shoulder-length blond hair messy from changing shirts, “What's the m— _what._ ”

“What the _hell_ is going on?! S-snails?” 

“P-perhaps if we turned on the news? Maybe they could tell us what's going on?”

Giorno fumbled with the T.V remote before switching to a channel involving a lady standing outside with an umbrella, looking absolutely pained. 

“...We have no idea what started this weather anomaly. Usually, during hurricanes or tornadoes, fish or frogs may be picked up from the ocean to be dropped back down during regular rainfall, but there has been no instance of snails dropping during regular precipitation...” 

Mista turned to Giorno, terribly confused, “This isn't really helping.” 

Giorno shushed him, and continued watching the program, “...There have been sightings of people _actually turning into snails._ These people have gone on to report, quote, “don't look at the sun, for God's sake just don't do it”....” 

“Giorno, do you think this is that same stand user?”

Giorno bit his thumbnail, “No, I don't think so. It just seems too bizarre. Perhaps we should go check it out?”

Mista shook his head adamantly, “Okay, no. Did you see those people turning into snails? Like hell I want to turn into one of those things. Same goes for you.” 

Giorno stared at him.

“Tch. Fine. I'll send out 3 pistols. But we are _not_ going outside.” 

Giorno sighed, and pushed his hair behind his ear, “I suppose that's good enough.” 

–

The snails stopped before Sex Pistols could make their way back to the hotel. All they had to say was there was a large concentration of snails in one area, but anybody that could've been there had up and gone. Mista was frustrated and Giorno seemed at a loss.

“Maybe the stand user was killed?”

Giorno sighed, and rubbed his forehead, “I don't know, I don't know. I just, I need to get out of this hotel and I need to find somebody. The disc stand user.” Giorno started to stand up, but Mista grabbed his arm.

“Stop. You're not thinking straight. This whole thing is getting to you. We don't know who this guy is or how powerful he might be, or if he has allies or mooks. If we get taken by surprise, how is Gold Experience going to help you?”

Giorno sat back down, and sighed, “I know. I'm sorry. I just feel so restless.” Giorno stifled a yawn.

“Maybe you should get some rest. You hardly slept on the flight over. You've probably got jet lag. Get some rest, and we can think of a plan once you wake up.”

“No, I've gone longer on less sleep, I'll be fine.”

Mista stared at Giorno blankly.

“Giorno, we've been doing this for 11 years. I've had to drag you from your desk chair and into bed more times than I can count. You need some rest.” Giorno made weak protests as Mista dragged him down on the couch and onto his chest. 

“Mista, this isn't necessary.” 

“Like hell it isn't necessary.” Mista scratched at his stubble with the hand that wasn't rubbing small circles in Giorno's back, “I've been with you before you finished puberty. I know you better than anybody else.”

Giorno lifted his head off Mista's chest, looking at him harshly, “We can't afford to just rest, Mista. We have to think of a plan.” Giorno yawned again, and Mista gave him a knowing look.

“We will plan after you get some sleep so you can hold your damn eyes open.” Mista kissed the top of his head, “And even if we thought of something, you're in no shape to wander around Orlando looking for this stand user, much less fight him.”

“Fine. Send out Sex Pistols again, though, and have them scope out the area for anything strange. If they come back with any information that sounds strange you need to wake me up immediately.” 

Mista rolled his eyes, “All right. You need to get some sleep though.”

–

“Giorno. Giorno, wake up. They found something.”

Giorno woke up with a start, Gold Experience Requiem floating above him. Mista put his hands up.

“Whoa, calm down. We're not under attack. Pistols found something. Apparently there's some sort of weird gravity-reversal thing going on. The center of it seems to be some Aerospace museum or something, and it's got about a 3 km radius. We should go check it out.” 

Giorno rubbed his eyes, “Do you know how to get there?”

“Yeah. 3 was the one who found it and he should know how to get back there. He said it looks like it's been going on for a couple of hours.” 

The two swiftly left the hotel, being once again taken in a nice limo to he directions Mista had given him. 

“Are you sure you two want to go there? The news has said that there's a lot of people getting injured in that area.”

“Yes, we're sure. Don't worry about us, we'll be fine. I apologize, but I must put up the window now. My friend and I need to discuss a private matter.” 

The chauffeur shrugged as the window between them was rolled up, and Giorno turned to Mista.

“Have one and two around you to keep an eye out. I'll have Gold Experience constantly on watch. You'll need to hold onto me and not let go, however. Requiem typically only repels damage done to me, but if you're holding onto me then its effects should help you as well.” 

Mista blinked, “Oh. Um. Okay. But since you're not being attacked, then the stand user won't be killed, right?”

“That's true. If the gravity is reversed in that area it'll only make us immune to its effects. We need to quickly and carefully find the stand user and neutralize him.”

“I just hope we can.”

–

The area had returned to normal just before Giorno and Mista had arrived, much to the frustration of Giorno. 

“Just too late. Dammit...” Giorno swore, and Mista rubbed his back. 

“It's okay. Look, there are some people around. I'll go ask them about what happened and see if they know anything about it.” 

Mista scoped out the area briefly, before seeing an unassuming, 40-something-year-old tapping her feet anxiously, “Excuse me ma'am, what exactly happened here?”

“Oh jeez, the whole area just went, like, topsy-turvy or something. It was super crazy and weird. My husband was in a store in that area, so I hope he managed to come out okay. I've been worried sick!”

Mista blanched, staring at the middle-aged woman he was talking to, “Right. Thanks.”

He went back to Giorno, who stood like a statue with his chin in his hand, “So we were right on this. Let's go in and check it out.”

“Mista, why is the sun setting?”

“Huh? I dunno, we must've taken a while to get here.”

Giorno stared at him, puzzled, “I checked the clock in the limousine and it said 12:30. It would've only taken us half an hour tops to get there.” Giorno looked at his watch, “It also doesn't explain why my watch is doing this.” 

Mista looked in astonishment as the hands on Giorno's watch spun rapidly around the face. Mista looked up, stars already beginning to come out.

“What the hell is going on?!”

Giorno grabbed his hand, “I don't know, but we need to get in there. The foreboding feeling I have hasn't gone away, and I think that stand user might have something to do with this.”

Mista grabbed his revolver with his free hand, and held onto Giorno's hand tightly. 

–

The two raced around the area, only able to trace some sort of path by the amount of damage in the area. The sudden jerks in movement of Giorno going “no this way” and “wrong way, go back” made it difficult for Mista to keep his grip on his young boss's hand. 

Mista tugged on Giorno's hand, causing him to stop, and leaned over to catch his breath,“Giorno, we're not getting anywhere. Let me send out a couple of Sex Pistols to see if they can find anything.”

Mista reached for his gun to bring out three of Sex Pistols, but a large crashing sound averted his attention, and he turned his head towards the direction of the noise. 

“I think we've found where to go next. Let's go.” 

Giorno squeezed his hand tightly before taking off, half-dragging Mista behind him. Mista had his revolver at the ready, safety off in case anything were to happen. They took numerous twists and turns as they headed towards the crashing sound, hoping to finally get some answers.

“Shit! What the hell happened?” Giorno's running slowed to a walk as they went closer to what was the noise, now just three dead, quickly decaying bodies on the ground. 

Giorno dropped to the ground, half-pulling Mista down with him as he examined the bodies,“This...I don't know who these two are, but I know this one. This is Jotaro Kujo. The Speedwagon Foundation showed me a picture of him. This is him, no doubt.” Giorno grimaced, clenched his fist, “Too late. We were too late to do anything. Of course we were, that's how it's been this whole time.” 

“Giorno, we have to get out of here. I don't think we're going to kill the stand user, let alone find him. He's speeding up time way too fast. We need to go!”

“There's nothing we can do, Mista” Giorno stood up, and squeezed Mista's hand tightly, “If he's moving time so fast he's causing bodies to decay instantly, then there's nothing we can do. We can't even run from this. What is it we're even running from?”

Giorno walked slowly towards a nearby pier, and stood silently. Mista stood by his side just as silently, unsure of what to say. The two watched as the sea shrank and mountain ranges formed, watching as the universe was rewritten. Giorno smiled sadly at Mista.

“I'm sorry this was a wasted trip. I thought I could do something. I suppose I was wrong.” 

“What is even happening? Giorno?” Mista said quietly, intertwining his fingers with Giorno. 

“From what I've gathered he's...resetting the earth? I'm not entirely sure. Just don't let go of me.” Giorno gave a humorless laugh, “So I was dragged here to witness the end of earth?”

Mista didn't say anything, simply pulled Giorno in closer. 

“Do you think we could've saved them or helped at all?”

“I don't know. I hope we could've. There's no way to find out now.” 

They stood in silence as they watched people crushed by the new formations. The sun rose and fell through the sky rapidly, and Giorno rested his head on Mista's shoulder. Mista rested his head on Giorno's, squeezing his hand tightly. 

Mista looked down at Giorno and kissed him, before the instantaneous snap of a new universe began.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 7: Valentine's day, 1988. PWPish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm trying to stop writing jotaro and kakyoin but they're very fun to write! especially the porn oh man porn is fun to write. anyway i hope you enjoy!!

_It's Valentine's Day..._

Jotaro opened his locker, his things being obscured by love letters hat had been slipped in. He grimaced.

_Ugh._

“J-Jotaro-kun?” Jotaro stopped ripping up the letters and looked over at a short, pale, familiar-looking girl. Jotaro looked at her with heavy disinterest.

“I-I'm Rin from Class 1-A. You probably don't know me b-but...here, I got this for you for Valentine's Day!” Her voice shook, and she held a small box of chocolates, pushing it into his chest. Jotaro took a deep breath, and pushed the box back.

“I'm not interested. Give it to somebody else.”

“B-But, Jotaro-kun...”

“I'm not. Interested.” His task of throwing away the letters forgotten, he shut his locker harshly before walking briskly past the girl who seemed to be close to tears.

He ignored the whispers of the other students as he walked to his classroom, and glared harshly at any girls who happened to come up to him with chocolate. Valentine's Day was always a pain, even more so once the rumor that he had gone to Egypt to find a cure for his sick mother went around the school. Said rumor had endeared girls even more to him, something Jotaro loathed. 

“Jojo~!” He ignored the girls that called to him and followed him as he walked to class. His patience was getting thinner by the second.

He finally got to his classroom, and unabashedly slammed the door in their faces once he walked in. He watched as Kakyoin took his reading glasses off and looked up from his book, eyebrow raised. Jotaro sat down with a huff, swearing in broken English. Kakyoin turned to him, smirking.

“I was directed to give these to you.” Kakyoin took out two small boxes of chocolate, “It was a bit disappointing to find out these weren't for me. They look pretty good.”

“Then keep them. I don't want them.” Jotaro gave a harsh glare to a girl that began to approach him with a box of chocolates, causing her to whimper and back off. Kakyoin looked on in amusement. 

“I'm surprised the rumors about us haven't deterred the girls away from you. Maybe they're just in denial.” Kakyoin said, resting his head on his folded hands, and hummed, “Is it still a rumor if it's true?”

Jotaro clicked his tongue, “Shut up. I just want this day over.”

“I've never seen a guy get so upset over girls attempting to give them chocolate. Congratulations, I suppose.”

“Tch. I don't want it. I don't want to accept a gift from some girl I don't even know, and I don't want to have to spend a fortune on White Day having to pay all them back.”

“I guess that makes sense. However, you could try to be a little less...” Kakyoin eyed him, “You. These girls haven't done anything wrong. Oh, by the way, a few girls have tried giving me chocolate as well. I had to kindly refuse, however.”

Jotaro said nothing, resting his head on his folded arms. He closed his eyes, and ignored the babble of his classmates around him, talking about how much chocolate they have or haven't received. Jotaro didn't understand the point of Valentine's Day, besides it being a cheap trick for chocolate companies to get most of their money for the year. If you loved somebody, some chocolate on one day of the year wasn't going to mean much. 

Kakyoin's voice snapped him out of his thoughts, “Oh, would you mind if I spent the night tonight? My parents went to Kyoto for a “romantic getaway”. I'll be pretty bored home by myself.”

Jotaro shrugged, “I don't care. Dad came back from tour and he and mom are out of town, too.” Jotaro peered up at Kakyoin, “...Just ignore any girls that try to give you chocolate.” 

Kakyoin rolled his eyes before putting his glasses back on and turning back to his book.

–

Jotaro ignored the gaggle of girls that followed him out of the school, and he swore as he went outside, seeing the rain. He had just washed his clothes, too. He sighed, and pulled his coat in closer and his hat down, ignoring the cold rain that hit him. 

He had spent all day dismissing any and all girls that attempted to give him any sort of gift. Kakyoin had looked on with some amusement as he watched Jotaro blow off every single girl that came towards him. Jotaro had, with great relief, left school with his locker clear of love letters and not a single chocolate gift to his name.

He heard a quick padding of feet coming towards him, and Jotaro frowned, irritated. If it was one last girl attempting to show their love...

He felt the rain that was pelting his body stop, and looked up to see an umbrella over his head,“You were seriously going to walk all this way home like that?” 

Jotaro visibly relaxed as Kakyoin spoke, “Needed to get away from those damn girls. Rain doesn't bother me.”

Kakyoin stared at him, a hint of irritation in his eyes, “I don't want you to catch a cold.” 

Jotaro rolled his eyes, but said nothing. 

“Oh, I almost forgot. Hold this for a moment.” He gave the umbrella to Jotaro, who stopped and watched as Kakyoin looked down and to the side as he sifted through his messenger bag, and pulled out a small, transparent bag with a red ribbon wrapped around it.

“Here. Dark chocolate toffee. Your favorite.” 

Jotaro stared at him, slightly surprised, and hesitantly reached out for the bag, “Did you make this?” 

Kakyoin shrugged and nodded, “It wasn't that hard. Doing the dishes was the most difficult part. I was trying to get you alone all day to give this to you, but you kept getting swarmed by girls.” 

Jotaro adjusted his hat before pulling Kakyoin off to the side, getting a surprised sound from him. He tilted Kakyoin's chin up, before leaning down and kissing him. Kakyoin was briefly shocked before he gently grabbed onto Jotaro's shirt, anchoring himself.

Jotaro pulled back after a bit and adjusted his hat once more. Kakyoin smiled slightly, and gently tugged on Jotaro's coat, “We should go. The rain is going to pick up some more.” 

They walked along the road together in silence before Jotaro broke it, “You didn't have to get me anything.” 

“No, but I wanted to. Don't be difficult.” Kakyoin smiled, “Besides, now I can't wait to see what you'll get me for White Day.”

Jotaro snorted, “You're such a pain.”

–

The two kicked off their shoes once they got in Jotaro's house. Kakyoin shivered, the umbrella helped but it barely covered the both of them, and they were still fairly wet. Jotaro threw their soaking jackets on a coat rack near the door, before tugging on Kakyoin's wrist.

“I'll get you a shirt. Come on.” 

He was dragged into Jotaro's fairly spacious room, before having a large white t-shirt thrown at his face. He stared blankly at Jotaro after he pulled it off, before throwing it over his head. He grimaced, feeling it hang off very loosely; he was practically swimming in it. He attempted to tie it together somehow to get it to fit a little tighter, but simply gave up and let it hang off of him.

Jotaro eyed him as he pulled out a cigarette, “...You're smaller than I thought.”

“It's not that _I'm_ small, it's that _you've_ got 20 centimeters and 20 kilos on me. _You're_ the anomaly here.” Kakyoin pulled the shirt up, and sat down on the couch in Jotaro's room. Jotaro put his hat on Kakyoin's head, before laying down on the couch with his head in Kakyoin's lap.

Kakyoin ran his hands through Jotaro's hair, “Are you tired from scorning girls all day? You live a difficult life, Jotaro.”

Jotaro looked up at Kakyoin, and blew smoke in his face. Kakyoin blew it away and coughed.

“Dick.” 

“Those girls piss me off. Don't know when to shut up.”

“ _Everything_ pisses you off, Jotaro.” Kakyoin rolled his eyes, but didn't stop running his hands through and playing with his hair, “They're just teenage girls. You could've been a little less callous.”

“I don't care. Whatever gets them away from me.”

“I know they're annoying, but—.” Kakyoin was quieted as Jotaro pulled his head down and kissed him. They broke off, and Kakyoin gave him an annoyed look.

“You can't just make out with me to distract me from being irritated with you.” Jotaro ignored him and pulled him down again, pushing his tongue in Kakyoin's mouth, grabbing his borrowed shirt to pull him closer. Kakyoin broke off, face red and pupils dilated, but still annoyed.

“You're such a pain.” Kakyoin said, before kissing him once more. Jotaro adjusted his position, sitting up and and pulling Kakyoin into his lap. 

He grasped Kakyoin's ass with his hands and squeezed, causing the slighter man to moan into his mouth. Kakyoin's hands grasped at Jotaro's shirt, and he pulled him closer, causing their chests to touch. Kakyoin grinded against him, and felt Jotaro grunt and groan in his mouth, biting down on his lower lip. They were both hard and getting more aroused by the second.

Jotaro's hands worked on Kakyoin's borrowed shirt, tossing it off easily. He felt Kakyoin tug at his shirt, attempting to get it off before Jotaro briefly separated from Kakyoin to cut out the middle man and take it off himself. He moved his lips to Kakyoin's neck, biting and making new marks where the old ones had faded. He felt Kakyoin bite his shoulder and grind against him. He sloppily half-kissed, half-dragged his tongue down and across Kakyoin's chest before he bit one of his nipples. He felt Kakyoin grab and tug his hair, his breathing getting harsh.

Kakyoin pulled Jotaro off and kissed him, before moving down his chest and placing small bite marks, slipping out of Jotaro's lap and towards the floor, running his tongue across Jotaro's abs. He kissed Jotaro's clothed crotch and heard Jotaro hiss, before unzipping it and taking out his hard cock. 

He eyed Jotaro, “Still hate Valentine's Day?” Jotaro glared at him with gritted teeth, and simply grabbed the back of his head, pushing him closer. 

Kakyoin licked from base to tip, and heard Jotaro groan, his hand grasping the back of Kakyoin's head, fingers wound tight in his red hair. He looked down at Kakyoin with half-lidded eyes as he wrapped his tongue around the head of Jotaro's cock, before taking the head in his mouth and running his tongue over it. He gently stroked the base as he took more of Jotaro in. 

Jotaro swore, his hand not in Kakyoin's hair grasping the couch tightly. Kakyoin sucked and licked his cock, his free hand toying with Jotaro's balls. Kakyoin looked up at him with hazy eyes, and Jotaro swore in broken English. With some hesitation, Jotaro pulled Kakyoin off his cock, and Kakyoin looked up at him confusedly, a thin line of drool still connecting him, his cheeks red and his eyes hazy.

“Hmm?” Kakyoin said, dazed. Jotaro leaned over and kissed him, running his tongue around Kakyoin's, tasting himself and not much caring. Kakyoin stood up, and leaned down, still sloppily kissing Jotaro, whose neck was craned up to kiss Kakyoin.

“Left drawer on the table. It's in there.” Jotaro kneaded Kakyoin's ass and kissed his flat stomach as Kakyoin blindly reached for the drawer before turning and looking for it, and pulling out the small bottle of lubricant. Jotaro moved his hands, undoing and pushing down Kakyoin's jeans and boxers, leaving him naked save Jotaro's hat on his head. Jotaro pulled him down so Kakyoin was straddling him, shivering as Kakyoin placed his cool hands on his chest. 

Jotaro grabbed the lube that had been haphazardly left next to him and squeezed some out onto his fingers, grabbing Kakyoin's hip with one hand and placing his other towards his backside. He gently eased his middle finger in, feeling it go inside Kakyoin with relative ease. He massaged the inside, knowing exactly where to press to make Kakyoin squirm, and he was rewarded with hearing Kakyoin shudder and moan his name before he eased a second finger inside of him. He twisted and wriggled his fingers around, enjoying the pants and groans he heard out of Kakyoin.

Jotaro removed his fingers, before squeezing another bit of lube onto his palm, and rubbing his hard cock. Kakyoin moved in to kiss him again, and Jotaro wiped his hand on his pants before moving both his hands to Kakyoin's waist and guiding him down as he slowly took Jotaro's cock inside of him.

“You okay?” Jotaro asked, rubbing small circles on the small of his back. Kakyoin nodded.

“It's still a little uncomfortable, but there's not really any pain. Just give me a moment.” Jotaro kissed him gently, and Kakyoin wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling their bodies closer together, Kakyoin doing his best to wrap his legs around Jotaro's waist given the small confinement of the couch.

Kakyoin's stillness ceased, and he began moving his hips up and down. Jotaro bit his shoulder, before moving down and leaving more marks on his collarbones and chest, hands helping pull Kakyoin up and down. Kakyoin gasped and writhed, digging his nails in Jotaro's back. Jotaro moved up to kiss him, open mouthed and sloppy, their tongues practically dragging against each other.

Jotaro moved and continued marking Kakyoin, biting and sucking hard on one of the sensitive spots on his neck. Kakyoin's eyes were shut tight as he moaned, biting hard on Jotaro's shoulder. Jotaro had instantly known where to thrust and began pounding away, leaving Kakyoin a moaning, panting mess. 

One of Jotaro's hands moved from Kakyoin's hip to his cock, tugging it erratically and without much rhythm, but Kakyoin didn't care. He tilted his head back, allowing Jotaro to mark him more, in obvious spots that couldn't be easily hidden. Red marks of varying hue and size were beginning to show up on Kakyoin's neck and chest, as well as on Jotaro's shoulders. 

Kakyoin was close, he could tell. His legs were wrapped even tighter around Jotaro, his nails scraping down his back. His moans were turning into unintelligible strains of words, which then turned into strained chanting of Jotaro's name in-between the panting and kissing. Jotaro's thrusts became more uneven and nonrhythmic, broken English swears on his tongue in-between harsh pants and nips on Kakyoin's neck. 

Kakyoin finished first, as he always did, feeling an intense shudder throughout his entire body, Jotaro's hand taking the brunt of the mess. Jotaro finished quickly after him, feeling the pressure inside of him finally release as he emptied himself within Kakyoin. He bit his neck particularly hard, hard enough to draw a bit of blood. Kakyoin grunted in a bit of pain. 

The two stayed in their position for a few minutes as they caught their breath. Jotaro grabbed a tissue from the small table to his left to clean off his hand, then tossing it into the trash when he was finished. He gently kissed Kakyoin's forehead before Kakyoin eased himself out and rolled off of Jotaro and onto the couch, naked, save for the hat, and spent. Jotaro tiredly zipped up his pants before wearily getting up off the couch, swaying and staggering as he did so. Kakyoin took the opportunity to put his feet up where Jotaro had been sitting, laying down awkwardly.

Jotaro turned his head to ask Kakyoin a question, before seeing that he was sound asleep. Jotaro rubbed the back of his neck, and grabbed a blanket, gently throwing it on top of him. 

–

Kakyoin awoke to the sounds of 8 bit dungeon music and pixellated enemies being slain. The room was dark, lit only by the television screen. Kakyoin groggily rubbed his eyes, seeing Jotaro at the end of the couch with a NES controller in his hand. 

“Oh, you're awake.” Jotaro said, then cursing as he got hit by another enemy. 

“How long was I out?” 

Jotaro shrugged, “A couple hours. You might want to put some clothes on.”

Kakyoin stumbled off the couch and grabbed his boxers that were left haphazardly on the ground, putting them on as well as the oversized shirt. Jotaro growled as ZELDA spun around and died. Kakyoin chuckled, before grabbing the controller from him.

“Let me get you past it.” Jotaro put out his cigarette before pulling Kakyoin in his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist and resting his head on top of Kakyoin's. They stayed quiet, the sounds of Zelda filling the room. Kakyoin saw Jotaro reach for something out of the corner of his eye.

“What are you doing?” 

“Eating the chocolate you gave me. It's good.” 

“I'm glad you like it. Well, you should like it, considering you told me it was the only type of chocolate you like.” Kakyoin hummed, “I hope none of the girls saw me give it to you. Hopefully there won't be a witch hunt on me at school tomorrow.”

A curt swear made its way out of Kakyoin's lips as he watched ZELDA spin around and die, before he gave up and put the controller on the coffee table. He seethed, and crossed his arms.

“Those blue knight guys?” 

“Those blue knight guys! They're the worst!” 

Jotaro said nothing as he moved his head onto Kakyoin's shoulder, then taking his hand and bringing it up to his mouth, “Not a big deal.” He kissed he back of Kakyoin's hand, and Kakyoin hummed contentedly. 

“Happy Valentine's Day, Jotaro.”

Jotaro stopped kissing his hand, and simply wrapped his arms tightly around his stomach, “It's still a pointless holiday.”

Kakyoin laughed, before tilting his head up and gently kissing Jotaro.

–

One month later, Kakyoin opened his school locker on his way out, revealing a small red box on top of a soft, green scarf. A small envelope was placed on top of the box, and Kakyoin tore it open.

_You're a pain in the ass._

_Happy White Day._

_\- Jotaro_

Kakyoin opened the box, revealing chocolate covered cherries, bought from his favorite sweets store. He pulled out the scarf, long and soft. He turned his head, and saw Jotaro standing across the hall, arms crossed as a few girls huddled around him. 

Jotaro looked over and met Kakyoin's eyes, watching as Kakyoin's eyes lit up and he smiled brightly, before putting the gifts in his messenger bag. Kakyoin walked over to Jotaro, excusing himself to the girls, before dragging Jotaro outside.

“I take it you liked it.”

Kakyoin looked around briefly before standing on his tiptoes and kissing him, hands rested on Jotaro's chest. Jotaro wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him closer. The kiss broke, and Jotaro rested his head on Kakyoin's shoulder, pulling him close to his chest.

“You do have a heart after all.” Kakyoin said, a small smile on his face. He heard a muffled “yare yare”. 

“Shut up.” He said, before kissing him again.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 8: Rohan's old shame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was very eager to write this!! sorry about the slight delay, i have been having a few issues lately! i am okaaay so updates shall continue at a regular pace!

“I'm worried about Rohan-sensei. He hasn't come out of his house in a few days.” Koichi put his head in his hands, sighing, “I wonder what's gotten him so cooped up. He's always weeks ahead of deadline. I kind of worry about him sometimes.” 

The three students sat in outside their frequented cafe after school, homework to be pushed aside until later. The heavy crowd the cafe had earlier began to dissipate, leaving only a few patrons as well as Josuke, Okuyasu and Koichi. The leaves were beginning to turn and fall, turning the town of Morioh various shades of oranges, reds and yellows. 

Josuke loudly sipped his near-depleted soda, wrinkling his nose, “He's such a weirdo. Guy won't ever let me catch a break.” Josuke's eye twitched, “Plus he never shuts up about my damn hair. Prick.”

“H-Hey Josuke, that's not good to say. Rohan-sensei may be kind of callous and egotistical and selfish...” Koichi paused.

Okuyasu stared at him, waiting for the conclusion, “And? What else?”

“I...I don't really know where to go from there. A-Anyway, he's not all that bad, just really rough around the edges. Plus it doesn't help that you did _kind of_ start a fire in his house.”

Josuke folded his arms angrily, “That was all his fault!”

Okuyasu stared at him, confused, “But didn't you like, use those dice to cheat or something and distract him and get him all riled up?” 

Josuke spluttered, “He _sat there_ and just let his house _burn_ while he tried to figure out how I was cheating instead of doing something! He's ridiculous!” 

Koichi nodded, “Yeah, you're not entirely blameless, Josuke.” Koichi looked up at Josuke, “Josuke, are you pouting?” 

Josuke pouted, “I am not pouting!” He stood up from the cafe table, slamming his hand down, “Well whatever! Rohan might be kind of a dick, but I'm gonna go make amends and get him out of his house!” 

“Ehh? Josuke, wouldn't it just be better to leave him alone? Every time you try to be friends with the guy it blows up in your face.” Okuyasu stared at Josuke, rubbing his head, “Maybe you should just bring him like a pizza from Tonio or something as a gift and leave a note?”

“Hey, that's a good idea! I can't just leave a note, though. I will not let today end without getting in Rohan's good graces!” 

Koichi put his hands up, “I don't think that's such a good idea, Josuke. I mean, if you interrupt him while he's working on his manga he'll probably just kick you out.”

“No, I'm tired of this dumb fighting with him! I'm going to get in his good graces if it kills me.” Josuke paused, “If you don't see me for a couple of days you might want to call the police and have them check Rohan's house.” 

Josuke threw some money on the table and pushed his chair in, “See you guys later. I've got a pizza to get.”

“Josuke—.” Koichi started, but Josuke had started to run off towards Tonio's. 

There was a short pause before Okuyasu turned to him, “So how long should we wait before we call the police?”

“I'd say a couple hours. I might be able to talk Rohan-sensei out of it, hopefully.” 

–

Josuke's whistling stopped as he neared Rohan's house, pepperoni and sausage pizza straight from Tonio's kitchen in hand. Tonio has assured him ten times over that it would be a sure-fire way to get into Rohan's good graces and stop the pointless bickering between them. 

Josuke rapped on the door, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he did so. Hopefully Rohan wouldn't just slam the door in his face as soon as he saw him. 

_Man, what's taking him so long?_

Josuke pounded on the door much louder this time, “Rohaaaaaaan. Come on, open up. I brought you something.” 

Nothing. Not even an insult yelled from inside the house. 

Josuke tried the doorknob, and twisted it, seeing that the door was unlocked. He hesitantly opened Rohan's door, peeking his head inside. He assumed that since he wasn't being whacked in the head, it was a good sign.

“Rohan?” He called quietly, before stepping in the house, watching his steps. He closed the door quietly, standing in the front parlor awkwardly.

He walked around for a bit before finding a table and setting the pizza on it. He rubbed the back of his neck, before looking around the house. Rohan was obviously home; if not, then he would've locked his front door. Maybe he was just way back in the house?

Josuke rubbed his neck and headed up the stairs to his workroom. It would be the best place to start.

“Rohan, your door was unlocked and I brought a present. Are you here?” Josuke peered into the room, not seeing anything. He rubbed the back of his neck.

_Hm...maybe he's not here?_

Josuke whistled innocently as he immediately turned to Rohan's desk, eager to see what kind of dirty little secrets he had. He shuffled through the drawers, and his face fell as he only found neatly-organized artistic supplies and manga papers. His eagerness was losing edge as he reached the last drawer, shuffling through the old, red-lined manga pages before reaching down to what must've been the bottom of the drawer and saw an old manga.

He pulled it out, and saw the front cover had a short, thin and almost weak-looking girl ( _Wait, that's a boy,_ Josuke thought), and another taller, glasses-wearing, more serious-looking man grabbing onto him in a very suggestive way. The background was very pink and very feminine, with flower petals drawn all around the two of them.

“Touched! My forbidden love?!” Josuke read aloud the title and blanched, and skimmed through the pages, before his eyes bugged out, “Is this a _yaoi?_ Oh my god.” Josuke snickered, holding his free hand up to cover his mouth, “Oh my _god_ this is incredible!”

“And what the _hell_ do you think you're doing here?” Josuke spun on his heel to see a very wet, very angry, and very half-naked Rohan Kishibe. 

“Um.” Rohan came up and snatched the book out of Josuke's hand, face red from anger and embarrassment. 

“You didn't answer my question. _What the hell are you doing here._ I thought I heard somebody talking when I got out of the shower and I assumed it was just a fan who had somehow gotten inside. I didn't expect it would be _you._ ” Rohan said, poking Josuke in the chest. 

Josuke smiled innocently and put his hands up, “H-Hey, I came here to patch things up between us. I'm sick of all this fighting we're doing.” Josuke's innocent smile turned into a shit-eating grin, “I didn't expect to find out that the _great Kishibe Rohan_ would have written a yaoi manga!” Josuke snickered, and Rohan only grew more furious.

“I don't have to explain myself to somebody like _you._ ” Rohan said, face still flushed.

“Hey hey, calm down. I won't tell anybody about your um... _interests._ ” Josuke bit back laughter as he watched Rohan's ears practically turn red.

“Why the _hell_ haven't you left yet?!”

Josuke caught his breath, his laughter finally dying down, “Look, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I wanted to patch things up. I even brought a pizza from Tonio's!” 

“What makes you think I want to be friends with somebody like _you?_ ”

Josuke raised his hands exasperatedly, “Look, this fighting bullshit is getting ridiculous. Plus Koichi is worried about you since you've been cooped up here for days and haven't come outside.” 

“You're an absolute pain in the ass.” Rohan said, glaring at him, and poked him in the chest, “Just get out now and I won't kick your ass out the door.”

Josuke sighed, “C'mon man, I just wanted to make amends. Maybe not be friends but at least stop this pointless fighting. Humor me here? I can promise you that the pizza Tonio made is out of this world. And hey, if you don't like it then fine, I'll get out of your hair and you won't see me again. Just humor me.” 

Rohan's ears perked up at the “you won't see me again” part, “...Fine. Get out of my way so I can put some clothes on.” Rohan flushed, turning his back on Josuke. He was half-naked in front of him, and he couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed.

“Really? Awesome! I'll wait downstairs.” Josuke patted him on the back so hard Rohan lost his balance and spluttered, watching as Josuke ran out of view and hearing him noisily run down the stairs.

Rohan flushed, and buried his head in his hand, _What have I done._

–

Rohan warily stared at Josuke as he ate the pizza, waiting for him to make any sort of move to give him a reason to kick him out of his house. Rohan was frustrated with both the situation and himself. On the one hand Josuke was an absolute pain in the ass and his mere presence could cause his blood pressure and stress level to skyrocket. On the other hand, Rohan couldn't help but find himself irritatingly drawn to him. Perhaps it was his stupid, symmetrical, nice face, or his irritating, perfect body. It pissed him off to no end. 

_Can't live with him and can't live without him,_ Rohan thought, placing his fist under his chin.

“So. A yaoi. Really?” 

Rohan was snapped out of his thoughts, and gave him a dirty glare, which was somewhat lessened with his mouth full of pizza.

“Hey, I'm curious is all. Really, what made you do something like _that?_ ”

Rohan chewed and swallowed, and averted his gaze from Josuke, face flushed, “Does it really matter? It was just a thing I did when I was young and stupid.”

Josuke rolled his eyes, “But you're _you._ Were you trying to appeal to girls?” Josuke said, smirking. Rohan gave him a dirty glare.

“ _No._ It doesn't matter!” Rohan said, angrily biting into another piece of pizza. Rohan's anger immediately dissipated, the pizza simply being too delicious. 

_Dammit. Now I won't be able to get this pain out of my hair._

“Oh come off it. Your secret is safe with me.” Josuke said, giving a thumbs up and a large smile. 

Rohan closed his eyes and gave a long sigh, “I had a _phase._ I made it very early in my career, before I discovered I could use a stand. It's why the... _everything_ about it is terrible.”

“Oh my god.” Josuke gave a toothy smile, and Rohan glared at him once more, his hand not holding a piece of pizza clenching and turning his knuckles white.

“There. Are you satisfied?” Rohan said, mouth full of pizza crust. 

“Wait, so a _phase?_ You probably have more, am I right?” 

“Drop it, Josuke.” 

“Fine, fine. Hey, how's the pizza? Considering you've had like four slices I'm assuming you like it.”

_This is the best pizza I've ever had go fuck yourself,_ “It's fine.” 

Josuke rolled his eyes before grabbing another piece and stuffing it in his mouth, “You know, Koichi was right about you. You're kind of a dick but I just gotta get past the rough edges. Plus I was looking at your manga, the uh, non-yaoi stuff, and even though I'm really not into it I gotta say you're super talented.”

“Because your opinion is so important to me.” Rohan drawled, “...Did it take you this long to realize my talent? You are _beyond_ help.” 

Josuke pouted, “C'mon, I'm on my best behavior here.”

Rohan raised a brow, “Really. _Really._ ” 

“Well okay I didn't really mean to break and enter in your house but it couldn't be helped! You left the damn door unlocked.” 

Rohan sighed, and put his palm up to his forehead, “It's too late now to do anything.” He said, and bit into his last piece of pizza, “God you're a pain in the ass. How does Koichi even stand you?” 

Josuke stuck out his tongue childishly, and Rohan rolled his eyes. 

There was a short silence, before Josuke pointed at him, “Hey, you've got a uh, on your cheek.”

“Wow, I sure understood what that meant.” 

Josuke stared at him, unimpressed, “Some sauce on your cheek, you jackass.” 

“Oh.” Rohan rubbed his cheek with the back of his hand, and Josuke pursed his lips.

“No, the other side.” Rohan's hand moved to the other side, still missing the apparent sauce on his face. Josuke sighed and licked his thumb, and reached out and got it himself, thumb running over Rohan's cheek. 

Rohan's face flushed, “What the hell was that? I could've gotten it myself.” Rohan said, and wiped his cheek.

“You kept missing so I just got it for you, jeez.” Josuke smiled softly, “You know, you're pretty cute when you're face gets all flushed.”

Rohan's eyes widened and he flushed more, “You're just messing with me.” Rohan crossed his arms and turned his head, “Well we finished the damn pizza and it was pretty good. Now get the hell out and don't come to my house anymore.” 

Josuke leaned in close to Rohan, head in his hands, staring at him, “You know, you have really soft skin. How do you do it?” 

“What? Where did that come from?” 

_What the hell are you planning, Josuke._

Josuke leaned forward and gently kissed Rohan, causing the mangaka to freeze up. He grabbed the edge of the table harshly before tentatively kissing back, feeling the odd smoothness of Josuke's lips move against his own. He felt Josuke's hand under his chin, tilting it up before his eyes widened at a tongue running against his own. 

They separated, but stayed close, their faces seemingly a centimeter away. 

Josuke made a face, “You know, that might've been better if we both didn't have gross pizza breath.” 

Rohan rolled his eyes and pulled him by the front of his shirt, kissing him again.

–

“I was supposed to get you _out_ of the house. I don't think that's going to happen now.”

Rohan was lying side-by-side with Josuke, the both of them panting and equally naked and sweaty. Rohan elbowed him in the side lazily, and Josuke turned on his stomach, putting his arm on Rohan's stomach and pulling him closer.

“I sincerely hope I'm not a pedophile.” 

“The age of consent here is 13. I'm sure we'll be fine.” Josuke smiled evilly, “Are you going to use what we did as reference for another yaoi manga?”

Rohan settled on giving him the dirtiest glare he could muster, too tired to do anything other than that, “I should kick your ass right now.”

Josuke turned on his side, and pulled Rohan close to him, wrapping on of his arms across his stomach and the other lying above his head, “Yeah but you won't. You like me too much.”

“Don't flatter yourself.”

Josuke smiled and buried his face in the crook of Rohan's neck and peppered kisses all along his neck and shoulder. Rohan grumbled, before giving up and sighing, relaxing against Josuke. 

_I hope I don't regret this._

–

Koichi swayed as he waited for Rohan to answer the door. He had knocked on the door several times in the past few minutes, and still nobody had answered. He sighed, and Okuyasu rubbed the back of his neck, biting his bottom lip.

“Should we call the cops?” 

Koichi shook his head, “No, I don't think so. Maybe Josuke is just out walking around or something?”

Okuyasu shrugged, “I dunno man, I don't think Rohan-sensei would just let him leave without at least punching him in the face.”

“That's true. Let's just go, I guess. Josuke can take care of himself. Still, it's weird that he hasn't at least called one of us.” Koichi skipped down the steps and glanced around, before a light in the window caught his eye.

“Hey look, there's a light on! Maybe he is home?” Koichi moved closer, before all the color drained from his face as he saw Rohan bouncing up and down, and a small bit of Josuke's hair was visible towards the bottom of the window. 

_I didn't see anything I didn't see anything I didn't see anything!_

“Koichi, something wrong?”

Koichi turned to Okuyasu, a nervous, forced smile on his face, “Oh, nothing. Rohan-sensei must have left a light on. L-Let's just go home, Okuyasu!”

Okuyasu raised an eyebrow, “You sure?”

“Yes I'm sure let's go _please!_ ” Koichi turned away and began walking swiftly towards his home, Okuyasu yelling at him from behind.

_Why._


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chaper 9: Caesar has negative amounts of luck. Complete PWP.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dang i am just super into writing porn lately it's super fun to write!! i think i made caesar too much like rohan or too tsundere but i hope it's still good?? this was very fun to write!

“You _fucker_.”

Caesar gritted his teeth, glaring at Joseph, who smiled innocently.

“Caesar, you need to loosen up. How are you going to attract such beautiful maidens with an attitude like that?” Joseph leaned down to kiss him, and Caesar kissed him back roughly, all teeth and tongue.

“You were the one who was getting handsy at dinner! I _know_ Lisa Lisa is suspecting something!” Caesar huffed, anger not dissipating no matter how many kisses Joseph placed on his face and neck. His resolve broke slightly when he felt Joseph's hand move towards his crotch, bucking into his hand.

“Forgive me Caesar~! I'll make it up to you, I promise.” Caesar's breath hitched as he felt one of Joseph's hands go down and cup his ass, squeezing and kneading it. Caesar gave him a halfhearted glare, before pulling him down and kissing him harshly, arching his back and grinding against him.

“You are,” Caesar kissed him, hands working at Joseph's black shirt, “The absolute _worst_ person.” Joseph separated from Caesar, pulling off his shirt before pulling off Caesar’s simple white tank top. 

Joseph smiled cheekily, leaning down once more to capture Caesar's lips. Caesar bit his bottom lip, still irritated at him, before wrapping his legs around Joseph's waist. He hissed as he felt Joseph bite his earlobe, hand working on pulling down his pants. 

Caesar huffed, eyeing Joseph, “I'm still irritated at you. You'd better be planning something go—.” Caesar groaned, cut off as Joseph cupped his groin and rubbed it as his mouth moved down to Caesar's collarbone, nipping and kissing his chest.

“Relax, dear Caesar. I wouldn't dream of giving you anything but the best!” Caesar relaxed his legs as he felt Joseph moving lower, biting and licking his nipples before kissing down his torso and abs, one of his hands coming up to pinch and tweak one of his other nipples. 

“ _Figlio di puttana_.” Caesar swore, his Italian coming out breathy and shallow. He watched through hazy eyes as Joseph slowly pulled down his pants to his knees, places small kisses as he revealed the skin. 

“So impatient!” Joseph tsked, and rubbed Caesar's cock through his boxers, causing the Italian to lean his head back and groan, his fingers twisting in Joseph's hair. Joseph pulled down his boxers slowly, too slowly, causing Caesar to yank his hair slightly. 

Caesar's cock was hard and red, and Joseph took it in his hand, rubbing it gently before kissing the head. He ran his tongue from base to tip, and took the head in his mouth, running his tongue all over and sucking on it. Caesar groaned, both of his hands digging in his hair. 

Joseph moved the hand that was on Caesar's hip and up to Caesar's mouth, giving him a silent command. Caesar opened his mouth and sucked on his fingers, wetting them just enough. Joseph took his fingers out of his mouth before trailing them down and gently pushed two inside of him until they went in to the knuckle. 

Caesar's breath grew shallow and he moaned loudly, feeling Joseph immediately find what he was looking for. His fingers twisted and prodded inside him, causing Caesar to pant and groan, one of his hands moving to grasp tightly at the sheets. Joseph took more of him in his mouth, before reaching his limit over halfway down. Caesar felt his tongue move around his cock, his bangs sticking to his sweaty forehead. He arched his back as Joseph prodded inside him once more, and Joseph moved his free hand to hold down Caesar's hip. 

He looked down at Joseph and locked eyes with him. Joseph winked, and Caesar gritted his teeth before letting out a rather loud moan, writing as Joseph thrust his fingers in and out of him. He was panting and sweaty, his hands grasping hard at Joseph's hair and the sheets. He was close, so close.

There was a knock on the door, “Caesar, you were acting strange at dinner,” The door opened, “So I wanted to make sure you were all ri—.” 

Caesar's eyes bugged out as he saw Lisa Lisa at the door, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Joseph immediately remove his mouth and snap his head at her. She was completely still, her eyes wide and confused. 

She cleared her throat, “Please lock the door next time.”

She shut the door, and the two heard her footsteps go rapidly down the hall. The two still had their gazes locked on the spot where she had been, before Caesar gave a pained groan and rubbed his eyes with his palms.

“ _Sei fottuto serio oh mio fottuto dio_!”

-*-

Caesar buried his face in his hands.

“Cmon Caesar, lighten up!” Caesar could practically hear Joseph pouting as he pulled him closer. They sat in one of the large tubs, bubbles filling the water. The smell of salt water and a gentle wind came through the window, the open windows gently moving in the breeze. 

“I haven't been able to look Master Lisa Lisa in the face for two days!” 

He felt Joseph's arms wrap around his midsection, pulling him halfway in his lap, “Caeeesaaaaaarr,” Joseph whined, kissing his shoulder, “It's fine! It was an accident, I'm sure it's fine. Lisa Lisa seemed more put out than anything.” 

“Your mouth was on my cock and your fingers were inside me. I'm sure she was more than just _put out_.” Caesar drawled, and snapped his head around as he felt Joseph moving his hand down further, “You are _insatiable_.” 

“I cannot help that you are naked and wet and in my lap, Caesar.” Joseph was hard, he could feel it very well, and he gave a short hum as Joseph grinded into his ass. 

Caesar bit his lip as he felt Joseph's hand wrap around his cock, teeth biting into his shoulder. Caesar stretched his neck, and Joseph kissed up to his ear, biting and licking it. Caesar arched his back, and Joseph pulled him closer, one of his hands coming up to tweak Caesar's nipple. 

“Perhaps we should wai—.” Caesar's eyes widened as he felt Joseph slide inside of him, the sudden penetration surprising him. Caesar turned his head slightly and narrowed his eyes at Joseph, who smiled.

Joseph nuzzled his neck, thrusting shallowly inside Caesar, “Lisa Lisa is in Venice meeting with somebody from the Speedwagon Foundation. She will not be able to walk in on us this time.” Joseph gently kissed his neck, “Are you all right?”

“I'm just a little surprised at the sudden cock up my ass. You could've warned me first.” 

“But Caesar~! Shouldn't you be used to this feeling by now?” Joseph said, grin toothy and mischievous. Caesar struggled to not punch him.

“Fuck you, Jojo.” 

“Is that not what I'm doing? Oh ho, I'll just have to give it my all, then!” Joseph gave a particularly hard thrust, causing Caesar to moan loudly and shut his eyes tightly. He arched against Joseph's chest, feeling dazed and lightheaded. 

Caesar fell out of Joseph's lap and onto his knees, bracing himself against a wall. Joseph moved onto his knees and grabbed Caesar's hips, pounding into him roughly and mercilessly. Caesar's breathing grew shallow and heady, moans mixing into swears and whines. Joseph knew his body well, too well, and thrust at the exact angle each and every time. 

One of Joseph's hands moved from Caesar's hips to his cock, grabbing it a little roughly and jerking him, attempting to match the rhythm of his thrusts. Caesar arched his back, and moaned Joseph's name in-between the broken Italian and panting. Joseph leaned over, still thrusting roughly, and left bite marks on his shoulder and lower neck. He sucked and licked all over his neck, making sure that any marks that had faded were certain to be replaced.

Joseph's thrusting became more erratic, as did his tugs on Caesar's cock. His teeth dug into Caesar's shoulder, and Caesar groaned, his hands grasping harshly at the tile wall. Caesar gave a particularly hearty moan as Joseph ran his thumb over the head of Caesar's cock, thrusting dead-on as he did so.

A sound of humming and the bathroom door opening showed Suzi Q, holding a mop and a bucket of water—the water was quickly dropped and spilled all over the floor. Joseph quickly pulled out of Caesar, and hid himself under the water, to which Caesar did the same.

“I-I-I-I...” Suzi Q spluttered, and ran out of the bathroom, kicking and nearly tripping over the fallen bucket on her way out.

Joseph wailed, “She's so nice and cute! I didn't want her to have to see this!” 

The ripple sparked out of Caesar's clenched fists, and he gritted his teeth before speaking, “We just scarred another person. Why didn't you lock the damn door?!”

“I—!” Joseph started, before sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, “Forgot.”

Caesar smacked him.

-*-

“I'm not entirely sure about this.” 

Caesar glared at him, the effect somewhat lessened by his reddened face and half-lidded eyes, “Since you fucked up the last two times, this is what you get.” Caesar's bandanna had securely tied Joseph's wrists behind his back. Joseph had struggled to get it off before relenting, letting Caesar leave angry red marks all over his neck, chest and stomach. 

“If you forgot to lock the door...” Joseph yelped as Caesar gave a long, slow lick up his cock, hands moving to hold down his hips. 

“I didn't. I'm not like _some_ people.” He stroked Joseph's cock as he ran his tongue on and around it, causing the younger to gasp and call out Caesar's name, tilting his head back. Caesar moved his hand back to Joseph's hip, pushing them down, allowing him to take more of his cock in his mouth. He heard Joseph panting, shallowly thrusting his hips up, causing Caesar to gag slightly before he held his hips down more firmly. 

He heard Joseph's breathing getting more shallow, signaling to Caesar that he was close. Caesar removed his mouth from Joseph's cock, causing a pained groan to come from Joseph. Caesar smiled smugly at him. He took in Joseph's naked body before sashaying over to the end table and sifting through the drawer, pulling out a small bottle of lube. 

He straddled Joseph, before squeezing out a bit of lube onto his middle finger, reaching around and easing it into himself. He bit his lip and shut his eyes, before gasping as he pressed his prostate, massaging it and rubbing against it. His eyes opened and he saw Joseph looking at him, pure, unadulterated lust and wanting in his eyes. He felt Joseph pull himself up, now chest-to-chest with Caesar. He kissed Caesar sloppily, running his tongue against Caesar's as he thrust up, their cocks meeting. Caesar swore in broken Italian before taking his finger out from inside of him. 

“Who said you could sit up?” Caesar said, panting, before pushing Joseph back down on the bed. Joseph made a confused noise before settling on pouting at Caesar. 

Caesar placed his hands on Joseph's chest, lowering himself on the Joestar's cock. He heard Joseph groan and shuffle, attempting to get out of his restraint to no avail. Caesar grinned before moaning and arching his back. He quickly began moving himself up and down on Joseph's cock

“You'd better stop struggling against my bandanna. If you rip it you owe me a new one.” Caesar said in-between pants, and glared down at Joseph. He moaned and writhed as he angled himself, hitting his prostate with each thrust. He moved his hands to Joseph's shoulder, grasping on for dear life and digging his fingernails in, half-slumped over.

He worked his hips harder and faster, now completely slumped over, touching foreheads with Joseph. Joseph craned his neck up and kissed him sloppily, pushing Caesar's tongue back in an attempt to dominate the kiss. Caesar would have none of that and pushed his tongue against Joseph's, tilting his head to kiss him deeper. 

Caesar broke off the kiss, still slumped over, hips beginning to move more erratically. He adjusted himself, pulling himself up a bit and grasping tightly onto the sheets. He looked down at Joseph, who was smirking. 

“Your next line will be “I almost wish I hadn't tied you up so you could touch my cock!”.” 

“I almost wish I hadn't tied—.” Caesar stopped and looked down at Joseph, eyes widening and looking at him with the most bewildered, incredulous look on his face. 

Caesar stopped riding Joseph and got off of him and off the bed. Joseph came down from his lustful high and stared at Caesar as he dressed himself, his arousal completely gone. Joseph gave a pained face, eyes widening at Caesar.

“W-W-Wait, Caesar! Where are you going? H-Hey, Caesar?!” 

Caesar zipped up his pants and threw his hands up, “I'm done. I'm out.” 

Joseph wiggled around on the bed, still incredibly hard and now incredibly uncomfortable, “C-Caesar, wait! Caesar no, come back!” 

Caesar walked out the door and stomped down the hallway, leaving Joseph naked and bound.

-*-

Caesar grimaced, a vein nearly popping as Joseph kissed his neck. He had his arms wrapped around his waist, and his hands were down the back of Caesar's pants, squeezing his ass. Joseph had been begging for forgiveness and Caesar had been ignoring him until he had been cornered in an empty hall. 

“You seem to be getting _dumber_. We are in an open hallway in the _middle of the day_! Anybody could come down here.” Caesar's complaining was briefly cut off as Joseph slid a finger into his ass, pressing and massaging his prostate. Caesar threw his head back and Joseph attacked, biting every sensitive spot on Caesar's neck that he knew. 

“I don't care.” Joseph said in-between kisses and bites, “I am going to make it up to you right here right now.” He could feel Joseph smile against his skin. Caesar sighed and relented, burying his face in Joseph's shoulder, biting his shoulder in an attempt to muffle his moans as Joseph pressed inside of him. He felt Joseph slip another finger inside of him, applying more pressure to his prostate. Caesar grinded against Joseph; they were both already aroused.

Joseph's other hand worked at Caesar's tight pants, pulling them down to his mid thigh and pulling down his briefs next. He worked a third finger inside Caesar, causing the Italian to clench his fists in Joseph's shirt. Joseph grinded against him, causing Caesar to sink his teeth into his shoulder. 

Joseph took his fingers out, causing an irate groan from Caesar, “Let me go in the bedroom and grab the—.” Joseph started, before Caesar pulled him closer, sloppily kissing him. 

Caesar continued kissing him as they walked backwards towards the door, hands still clenched in his shirt. One of Joseph's arms was wrapped around his waist, pulling him close, while the other was reaching blindly behind him before opening the door and being shoved inside. 

Caesar was slammed against the nearest wall, having his shirt all but torn off of him. Caesar threw Joseph's top off and took off his scarf, throwing them somewhere in the room. Caesar shimmied his pants and undergarments completely off of himself, kicking them off to the side. 

“You get your pants off, I'll get the lubricant.” He quickly ran to the end table near the bed, nearly throwing out half the items in the drawer before getting what he needed. 

He turned around and was stunned briefly as Joseph leaned down to kiss him, arm wrapping around his waist. Joseph continued kissing him as he laid him down on the bed, Caesar's legs wrapping around his waist tightly. Joseph ran his hands all over Caesar's torso before tweaking and pinching his nipples, causing Caesar to hiss and moan. Caesar dropped the lubricant on the bed, arms wrapping around Joseph's neck and pulling him closer. Joseph broke off the kiss and grabbed the bottle, squirting a bit on his middle finger. Caesar removed his arms from around his neck and relaxed his legs from around his waist, allowing Joseph to move more freely. 

He pumped his finger in and out of Caesar briefly, before squirting some more lubricant in his palm and rubbing it on his cock. He grinding against Caesar, not going inside, smiling cheekily at him. Caesar growled, wrapping his legs around his waist once more and pulling him closer, insistent and impatient. 

Joseph lifted Caesar up and wrapped his arms around his back, holding him chest-to-chest before penetrating him, causing Caesar to let out a loud groan in Joseph's ear. Joseph kissed Caesar lovingly, one of his arms adjusting so his fingers were grasping Caesar's hair. Caesar raked his fingernails down Joseph's back, leaving red streaks down his back. 

“You are,” Caesar let out a loud moan as he felt Joseph's tongue go around the shell of his ear, “absolutely ridiculous.” 

Joseph smiled at him, his eyes twinkling, “I love you too, Caesar.” 

He tilted Caesar's head back, his thrusting getting harder and rougher, and licked and bit all over Caesar's neck. Caesar panted, and dug his hands in Joseph's hair, seeing stars as Joseph his his sweet spot over and over, harder and harder. He swore loudly in Italian when Joseph found the most sensitive spot on his neck and sucked on it, before running his tongue around the red mark he left.

Joseph's moans became unintelligible English, and he nuzzled Caesar's neck before unwrapping his arms around Caesar and letting him drop to the bed, before he placed his hands on Caesar's knees, his legs still wrapped around his waist. He pushed down on his knees, spreading Caesar's legs further, allowing himself to pound harder and deeper. Caesar gasped, the ripple sparking at his fingertips, and he threw an arm over his eyes, arching his back. 

Joseph licked his lips, pupils dilated so much it was difficult to see the color in his eyes, and stared down at Caesar, taking in his body, “You are beautiful, dear Caesar.” 

Caesar moved his arm and looked at Joseph, his face even redder than it was before, “Shut up, dumbass.” 

Joseph's thrusts became more erratic and jerky. He moved one of his hands from Caesar's knee to his cock, stroking and pulling it unevenly. Caesar arched his back and moaned Joseph's name, his hair messy and askew and his headband halfway off his head. Caesar's moans became breathy and shallow as Joseph continued stroking and pulling his cock, making Caesar writhe.

He came when Joseph leaned down to kiss him, getting it all over Joseph's hand and his own stomach, feeling his entire body shudder and give. He felt Joseph thrust twice more before he came inside of him, biting Caesar's lip as he did so. 

Joseph rested his head on Caesar's collarbone as he caught his breath, and Caesar wearily brought a hand up and rested it in his soft, thick hair, panting hard and deep. He felt Joseph pull out and fall to the side of him on the bed, halfway laying on it. Caesar made a face, feeling gross and slightly uncomfortable with the mess on his stomach and inside of him. 

After what felt like hours, Caesar stumbled up and off the bed, losing his balance slightly as he padded across the hardwood floor, intent on taking a hot bath. He heard Joseph weakly whine his name as he left the bed, and heard him roll over.

“You better not wipe your hand on the bed! I just had the blankets washed.” He heard Joseph grumble as he slowly made his way towards the door. He unlocked the door and opened it, coming face-to-face with Lisa Lisa.

“M-Master!” He nearly screeched, and covered his nudity with his hands, “I-It's not what it looks like!” 

Lisa Lisa eyed him, then blinked slowly, obviously unimpressed, “Of course it isn't. I'm trying to read, so if you two could...” She peered over Caesar's shoulder and saw Joseph laying on the bed, half asleep and seemingly unaware of Lisa Lisa “If you two could keep it down, that would be...much appreciated.” 

She turned on her heel and walked swiftly down the hall, still poised as ever. Caesar, stunned, shut the door. He sank down to his knees slowly, and ran his hands down his face before rubbing his eyes with his palms. 

“Are you _serious_?!”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 10: A day in the life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the short delay! i haven't been feeling all that well (again) and i'm kind of having a bit of writer's block. i'll do my best to keep the updates regular!

_7:00_

Kakyoin cracked opened his eyes, sunlight filtering through the curtains and coming out in small streams. He cracked his neck, and tried to wriggle out of the hold Jotaro had on him. He succeeded, and Jotaro rolled onto his stomach, arms splayed out on the area where Kakyoin had been. 

He tumbled out the bed, stumbling as he did so. He stretched out and walked quietly out of the room, being as careful as he could to not wake Jotaro. 

_Thank God it's Saturday. I don't understand how stupid people at work can be._

Being a museum curator was a mixed bag. On the one hand, he managed to find a job with his “piece of toilet paper that took me 4 years and too much money to get” as he had described his Fine Art degree, but on the other hand it was just about the _only_ job he could get, and his patience wore thin most days with his inept coworkers. Jolyne had always given him a large hug whenever he came back frustrated, and if Jotaro was home he made him tea and allowed him to vent. It made his frustration ease up, if only a bit. 

Still, when he looked in the mirror when he woke up and saw the scars across his eyes, he couldn't help but feel thankful. He constantly touched the large, pink scar on his stomach to remind himself of how lucky he'd been; Jotaro did the same, although Kakyoin still saw the guilt behind his eyes when he touched his stomach. It had taken the both of them years to be able to live a normal life, and only with regular talks with Joseph, Polnareff and specialists at the Speedwagon Foundation were they able to move forward. 

He sighed, and touched the large scar on his bare stomach absentmindedly as he waited for the coffeemaker to finish brewing. He poured himself a cup, leaning against the counter as he drank it, (ab)using Hierophant Green to put the dishes and coffee beans away. Their stands were extremely useful around the house, if only when Jolyne wasn't around so they wouldn't scare the hell out of her.

He made short work of the black coffee before heading to the bathroom to clean himself up. Jolyne would be up soon to watch Pokemon and demand pancakes. 

–

_8:00_

“Papa, remember to put chocolate chips in them!” Jolyne tugged at Kakyoin's pant leg, and Kakyoin smiled warmly down at her.

“Of course, dear. Be quiet though, your dad is still sleeping. Get yourself a glass of milk.” He drizzled chocolate chips over the non-frying side of the pancake, eyeing Jolyne and making sure she didn't spill the milk. He heard her sip loudly as she toddled into the living room and on the couch, and Kakyoin heard the telltale signs of Pokemon in the background.

The pancakes were finished quickly, and he flipped them onto two plates. He grabbed his second coffee and balanced the two plates plus the silverware in one hand and his coffee in the other, making his way towards Jolyne. 

“Grab the plate, grab the plate.” He hurried his steps towards Jolyne, who grabbed her pancakes just before Kakyoin nearly lost his balance. He sighed, relieved, before setting his coffee and plate on the end table beside him, sitting by Jolyne before sipping on his coffee and crossing his legs.

They sat in silence for a while, Jolyne eagerly eating her pancakes before she spoke up, “Is Dad gonna be home for long?” She said quietly. 

Kakyoin swallowed his bite, “He has to leave next month to go to the Everglades, so he'll be home for a little while this time. He'll be close by this time, don't worry.” 

He watched Jolyne's eyes light up before she went back to chomping on the pancakes. She downed the rest of her milk after finishing her pancakes, and placed the empty glass and plate on the table in front of her. 

“Can you put my hair up like you do? I tried to do it myself but I couldn't get the little, um, little...what did you call them?” 

“Odangos?”

“Odangos! I couldn't get them quite right. They were all droopy.” 

Kakyoin kissed her on top of her head, “Sure. Go grab some hair ties.”

She slid off the couch and ran to her room, before quickly coming back with two green hair ties. Kakyoin patted the space between his legs, and she sat in-between them, legs kicking in excitement.

“Let me know if I'm pulling too tightly.” He swiftly began putting her long, black hair in pigtails, leaving two long strands that were to be braided down. He began wrapping the pigtails around his thumb and middle finger before easily and quickly making one into a round bun. He effortlessly formed the other one, thanks to practiced work, and began braiding the hair he left down. He felt Jolyne wince slightly, and he pulled less tightly, trying to not hurt her. 

He wrapped the finished braids around her odangos, before twisting the two together. He finished up by wrapping a sparkly green hair tie around them, poking one of her odangos for good measure. She turned and looked at him, eyes sparkling.

“Can I do your hair now?” 

Kakyoin shook his head, “N-No, I don't think my hair is long enough to make it like yours.” Jolyne looked up at him curiously before tugging gently on his long bang. 

“What about this? Can I braid this?” 

Kakyoin sighed, then smiled, “Sure.” 

The look of pure happiness on Jolyne's face was worth the pink ribbon tied around his braided hair. 

–

_10:00_

“Jotaro, get up.” 

A pillow was thrown at his face. 

It fell to the ground and Kakyoin made a face before throwing his hands up and shut the bedroom door behind him, walking back through the kitchen and to Jolyne. Jotaro could be difficult to deal with in the first place, but in the mornings he was near impossible. Kakyoin had given up long ago; he had dealt with enough sour and irate moods from him before realizing that it was just better to let him sleep.

She sat on the floor, controller in her small hands and Mario on the screen. She looked up at him expectantly and he just shook his head. 

“He won't be up for at least another hour. I tried.” He raised his eyebrow, “Mario? I thought you were going to watch Digimon.” 

“It was a repeat.” She answered simply, before puffing out her cheeks in anger as the last of Mario's health was depleted, “I can't get past this stupid level! It's the first star in this dumb stage!”

Kakyoin sat down behind her, wrapping his arms around her and gently taking the controller, “Here, I'll show you. It's really easy, but it's not really obvious.” He placed his chin on top of Jolyne's hair, in-between her odangos. 

“All you have to do is swim down to the eel, and once you see it, you just swim back up. It'll be gone once you dive down the second time. Be careful to not run out of air.” Kakyoin took his head off hers and looked around at her, smiling at her.

The sounds of Mario collecting another star reverberated through the room, “Ugh! How was I supposed to figure that out?” 

Kakyoin chuckled, “It's all right, I only found it out after swimming around for 20 minutes. That eel freaked me out the first time I saw it.” 

Jolyne tilted her head back, looking at him in amazement, “You're way better than me at this! Can you get me past another level?” 

“Sure, which one?” 

“The penguin race one! I keep falling off or he beats me.” 

Kakyoin grimaced, “Oh jeez, yeah I remember that one. There's a couple more levels like that if memory serves. Try it a few times yourself, and I'll guide you best I can. If you still can't get it I'll show you.” 

Jolyne pouted, “C'mon, can't you just do it for me?” 

“You can do it yourself, you just need to practice a little. I can't do _everything_ for you; what are you gonna do if I'm not here to beat a level for you?” 

Jolyne made a small noise of acknowledgment, “Okay. But you better be watching closely!” 

Kakyoin laughed, and kissed her cheek, “Of course.”

–

_12:00_

Kakyoin's head perked up as he heard a door slam; Jotaro must've finally gotten up. He patted Jolyne on the head and got up from the floor, stretching out his back and leaving her to play by herself. He walked into the kitchen and poured coffee into Jotaro's favorite mug—transparent blue with a dolphin-shaped handle—before feeling an arm wrapped around his waist and a kiss pressed against his temple.

He smiled, and pressed Jotaro's mug into his hands, before realizing he was being stared at, “What?”

“Your hair.”

“Oh. Jolyne wanted to braid my bangs after I put her hair up.” 

Jotaro stared at him blankly as he sipped his coffee, and simply shook his head. Kakyoin gave him an exasperated look.

He cleared his throat, “I made pancakes earlier for Jolyne and myself. I still have some batter left, would you like some?” 

“I'll just make myself some toast.” Jotaro's eyes widened slightly as he felt Jolyne grasping onto his leg, smiling up at him. Jotaro put his coffee down on the counter, and reached down to put a hand on her head.

“Hey.” 

“You're finally awake! Papa and I have been playing Mario 64.” Jolyne looked at Kakyoin, “He let me braid his hair! Didn't I make him look pretty?” Kakyoin's face fell as Jotaro looked up at him, raising his eyebrow, an amused smirk on his lips. 

“I think he needs some barrettes. Maybe a flower in his hair.” 

Kakyoin rolled his eyes up as he closed them, then opened them slowly and stared at Jotaro, giving him a glare that allowed him to call him a bastard without actually saying it in front of Jolyne, “I don't think that's necessary.” He knelt down and smiled warmly down at Jolyne, intent hidden behind a friendly smile, “Why don't you pretty up Daddy while I make us all some lunch, huh? I'm sure he's just jealous of how nice you made me look.” Kakyoin looked up at Jotaro, whose eye was twitching, “I can make you something more filling than toast. How about some grilled cheese? I'll even put chips on them for you, Jolyne.” 

Jolyne smiled, wide and toothy, and nodded enthusiastically, “C'mon dad, please?” Jotaro glared at Kakyoin, before forcing a nod and allowing himself to be dragged into Jolyne's room, shooting Kakyoin a dark look before the door shut. 

Kakyoin hummed happily, before going outside to check for mail.

–

_1:00_

Jotaro glared at Kakyoin as he chewed on his grilled cheese, the effect lessened with the amount of pink, green and blue hair ties and sparkly barrettes in his hair. Kakyoin took great pleasure in the fact that his hat was being cleaned, so he couldn't hide it with his trademark cap. 

“Jolyne you did a great job.” He smiled politely at Jolyne, feeling Jotaro's glower at him. He tore into the grilled cheese, trying to do anything he could to show how irritated he was. 

“Can we go to the park today? It's really nice out.” 

_We live in Florida, it's always nice out. Well, except the hurricanes and awful heat._ Kakyoin rested his chin on his palm and shrugged, looking over towards Jotaro.

“I'd be okay with it. Did you have any work you had to do today?” 

Jotaro anger dissipated, and he shook his head, “Finished up my reports last night.” He looked at Jolyne, “We can go, but we'll have to...fix our hair back to how it was. Sorry.” 

Jolyne pouted before shrugging, “It's okay.” She finished the last bit of her grilled cheese and potato chip sandwich, before jumping down from her chair, padding over and tugging on Jotaro's sleeve, “Let's go, let's go before the park fills up!” 

Jotaro gently took her hand off his sleeve, before poking one of her odangos, “Let me finish my food first.” He eyed her simple white dress, “Go change into something more appropriate. We'll be ready to go in a bit.” He rubbed her head and she nodded, skipping off to her room.

Kakyoin eyed Jotaro and pursed his lips, “I don't know Jotaro, you pull off that look pretty well. Are you sure you want to take out the hair ties? It gives you a certain charm.” Kakyoin smirked and Jotaro shot him an unimpressed look. 

“You're so annoying.” 

Kakyoin smiled, and leaned over to kiss him. 

–

_2:00_

“It's like 29, er, 75 degrees out here. How are you still wearing that?” 

Kakyoin pointedly eyed Jotaro's white coat as they walked down the gravel path towards the park. Jotaro looked at him evenly, adjusting the hold he had on Jolyne, whom he was carrying on his shoulders. 

“Heat doesn't bother me.” He raised his eyebrow at Kakyoin, “We've lived here for 7 years, you should be used to it by now.” 

“I'm sorry if I'm not used to the blistering heat combined with soul-sucking humidity.” 

“Are you sure that's the accurate metaphor to make?” Jotaro said, giving him a questioning look, “You have actually had your soul sucked out.”

Kakyoin opened his mouth to retort, but shut it, and settled on rolling his eyes. They rounded the corner to the park, and Jolyne eagerly wanted down. Jotaro reached up to get her off his shoulders and set her down and let her run off towards the large jungle gym. The two watched with hints of amusement before sitting on a nearby bench. 

Kakyoin put his hands behind his head and leaned back, stretching out on the bench before Jotaro spoke up,“The Speedwagon Foundation found out that Dio has a kid. He's located in Italy.” 

“What?” Kakyoin looked at him, eyes wide, “He has a _kid?_ That's...surprising.” 

“Yeah. I was planning on going to Italy to find out if he can use a stand or even has the same ability as Dio. I don't have the time to go myself, though.” 

“I can go. Since you're home you can take care of Jolyne and I can investigate. Get me a plane and I can be there and back in a couple of weeks.” 

“You can't speak Italian.” 

A fair point, but Kakyoin knew the true reason he didn't want to send him, “That's...true, but there are other reasons I'm guessing?” 

Jotaro glowered at him before letting out a small sigh, “I was planning on asking Josuke, but he's too stupid and reckless. Hirose Koichi is who I plan on asking about it.”

“Koichi-kun? I remember you telling me about him. He's around Josuke-kun's age, right?”

“Yeah. He's smart and resourceful. His stand will attract less attention than mine or Josuke's will, so I figure he would be best for it.” 

“Echoes, wasn't it? Something to do with sound. What's the information you have on Dio's son?” 

“His name is Shiobana Haruno. He's 15, half Japanese from his mother, half British from Dio. All we know is his name and what he looks like, and that he's Dio's son.” 

“That's not a lot to go on. Do you think Koichi-kun will be able to handle it on his own?”

“I hope so.”

–

6:00

Jolyne was curled up in front of the T.V once more, controller in her hand as she worked on rescuing Princess Peach from Bowser. Jotaro was laying down on the couch, eyes closed and head turned upward in Kakyoin's lap as Kakyoin read through the reports Jotaro had given him on the Stand Arrow.

“So all we know about the arrow—.” Kakyoin started, but Jotaro lazily pointed towards Jolyne.

“Oh. _So all we know about the stand arrow is that it grants non-stand users stands, potentially?_ ” He switched to Japanese, the language feeling slightly weird, having not spoken it for a while.

“ _Basically. Polnareff has been traveling in Europe to see if he can find out anything about it. Speedwagon Foundation is in possession of one, while we lost the one Yoshishiro had. We don't know exactly how many there are._ ”

“ _That's not really comforting. What about if a stand-user gets shot with it? What then?_ ”

“ _It upgrades the stand. To what extent, I don't know._ ” Jotaro let out an angry sigh, “ _It's very frustrating._ ”

Jotaro opened his eyes, and looked over to see Jolyne looking back at him, “Can we have dinner soon? I'm getting hungry.” 

Jotaro got up rolled his shoulders, “I was gonna make burgers. Guess I'll start now.” He placed his hand on Jolyne's head, “You can help if you want. Just be careful.” 

Kakyoin stared at them as they went into the kitchen. He unraveled Hierophant and had him wrap around Jotaro's waist and ass, and squeeze gently. Jotaro looked behind him and raised his eyebrow. Kakyoin smiled back gently, giving a curt wave before being pushed down on the couch and pulled into Star Platinum's cool, solid chest. 

He elbowed Star Platinum in an attempt to get out, but that only made Jotaro's stand pull him in closer. He grumbled and continued wiggling against his hold, and only continued further as he saw Jotaro look back and give him a smug look. 

Jolyne looked back to see Kakyoin wriggling on the couch, “Hey, is there something wrong with Papa?” 

“No, he's fine.”

–

_8:00_

The hamburgers were made and eaten, with Kakyoin glaring at Jotaro the entire time, who stayed willfully oblivious. Kakyoin had attempted to kick his feet under the table as subtly as he could, chewing angrily as he did. 

Jolyne was curled up in Jotaro's lap, half-asleep as he stroked her now-undone hair. Kakyoin was leaned against his shoulder reading, Jotaro's other arm crossed over his shoulder and holding him close. Jotaro shook Jolyne gently.

“You're barely awake. Let's get you to bed.”

Jolyne weakly protested, “Noooooo. I'm awake! I'm wide awake!” 

Jotaro gave her a look, and Jolyne flushed.

“Okay, I'm a little tired.” Jotaro unwrapped his arm from around Kakyoin and picked Jolyne up, her head laying against Jotaro's chest. Kakyoin closed his book and stood up, pushing back Jolyne's bangs and kissing her forehead. 

“Goodnight dear, I'll see you in the morning.” 

Jotaro came back five or so minutes later, Jotaro came back and plopped on the couch, wrapping his arm behind Kakyoin's shoulder and pulling him close, kissing the top of his head. 

“She went out as soon as her head hit the pillow. Put a movie on. Any one, I don't care.” Kakyoin shrugged, turning on the T.V and flipping through channels before coming across some old 50's technicolor movie. He gently tossed the remote on the coffee table and went back to reading. 

“...I was thinking about telling Jolyne. About stands, and Dio.” 

Kakyoin closed his book, “Do you think she would believe you?” 

Jotaro ran a hand through his hair, “I don't know.”

“Maybe we should wait until she's older. She's going to find out sooner or later, especially if my hypothesis is correct about her getting a stand when she's older.” Kakyoin stretched, scratching his head, “Let's wait until she's a little older. I don't think telling a 7 year old about mystical forces fueled by your fighting spirit is a good idea. Let's see how it goes, see if she develops a stand of her own. If not, well, we should still tell her.”

“I just don't want her getting involved.” 

“Well, she doesn't have to get _involved_ , but keeping her in the dark is probably great in the long run.” 

“Yeah.” Jotaro turned towards the movie, “Yeah.”

–

_12:00_

Jolyne opened the door with a loud creak, peeking into the room, “Can I come in? I-I had a bad dream.”

“ _Shit shit shit shit shit get off get off._ ” Kakyoin whispered harshly at Jotaro, pushing him off from on top of him and rushing to get his pajama pants back on. Jotaro swore, pulling up his underwear and pants. 

“Give us a second, sweetheart.” Kakyoin said, swearing in Japanese as he tried to get his shirt back on. After some struggling he managed to get it back on, as well as his pants. 

“Come on.” Jotaro said, and he heard Jolyne pad softly to the bed, crawling on top and into Jotaro's lap, “It's all right. Let's go to sleep.” 

Jolyne squirmed and moved to the middle of the bed, in-between the two of them. Kakyoin was slightly disappointed, before the feeling was squashed by Jolyne cuddling into his chest. He buried his face in her hair, holding her tightly. Jotaro threw his arm across the both of them, and pulled him so Jolyne was laying comfortably between them. 

“Are you feeling better?” Jotaro said, glancing down at Jolyne.

“Mhm.” Kakyoin felt Jolyne yawn against him, “I love you Dad. Love you Papa.”

Kakyoin kissed the top of her head and felt Jotaro grip him tighter, “We love you too, dear. Goodnight.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 11: The hangover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it took a bit to update!! i had a spell of writer's block, oops. hopefully it won't last that long?? maybe i'll write more porn. who knows!!

“Oh my _god_ what did I _do._ ” 

Rohan blearily opened his eyes to see Josuke sprawled out next to him as inelegantly as possible, hogging half the blankets and his limbs everywhere. Rohan struggled out of the bed, before realizing that moving was a terrible idea and _who opened the curtains._

Rohan began walking towards the bathroom before he tripped on the sheets and fell on the hardwood floor face-first.

His tripping had shaken the room a bit, causing Josuke to snort loudly and wake up. Rohan groaned, rubbing his nose as he stumbled up into some sort of awkward standing position. He began staggering and fumbling his way to the bathroom before tripping over Koichi.

“Why are there so many people in my house?!” Rohan yelled, before immediately regretting it. He groaned, and rubbed his temples, before Josuke's creaking on the bed got his attention.

“Don't be so loud.” Josuke winced, running a hand through his unstyled hair, “Ugh, my head is killing me.” Josuke sat up shielding his eyes from the sun, “Rohan, where are your pants?” 

Rohan looked down, his pajama pants mysteriously absent, “Where's _your_ shirt.”

Josuke grasped at his chest before looking up at Rohan, “Isn't that my shirt?” 

Rohan looked at the shirt; surely enough it was one of Josuke's, but Rohan was not in the right state of mind to give a shit, not that he _would_ if he was in the right state of mind. He grumbled and pulled the shirt down as low as he could, doing his best to cover his pants-less legs.

He stared at Koichi, curled up on a bed of throw pillows, and saw Okuyasu a few feet away, who was equally passed out, sitting near a wall with a blanket haphazardly thrown on him. Rohan whipped his head around towards Josuke, pointing at the passed out teen. 

“Why is _he_ here. Why is _Koichi_ here. Why am _I_ so hungover.” He watched as Josuke blinked owlishly at him, before Rohan threw his hands up in the air, “I'm going to go try to shower. Don't throw up on anything.” 

“No promises.” 

Rohan glared at him, the effect heavily lessened due to the enormous bags under his eyes, his pasty, almost sickly pale face, and his extremely messy hair. Josuke put his hands up as a sign of surrender, before starting to search for another shirt he could wear. 

He finally made his way into the bathroom, turning on the shower head and stripping of what little clothes he was wearing. He stepped inside, and the hot water helped soothe him, if only a bit. He thought maybe it wouldn't be so bad, maybe it would pass quickly.

That thought was quickly crushed after he threw up in the shower.

–

After stumbling and nearly tripping down the stairs, Rohan made it to his kitchen (relatively) unharmed, only to see a few more people collapsed around his house; he identified one as Koichi's girlfriend, Yukako or something, and that weird kid Hazekura that hung around Josuke. His living room was a mess, probably from all the drinking that had, inevitably, gone on last night. Empty bottles littered the floor, but Rohan couldn't bring himself to care at the moment as all he desperately wanted were some pain pills.

He walked towards his fridge before he saw Jotaro sitting at the small island, hat off and replaced by an ice pack. His face was on the counter top, and a bottle of water sat next to him. His white coat forgone, clad only in his black shirt and white jeans. 

He looked up as he heard Rohan fumble into the kitchen and towards the fridge, his eyes bloodshot and his hair as messy as Josuke's, sticking up in all sorts of places. Rohan met eyes with him briefly before opening the fridge and grabbing some orange juice, grabbing some ibuprofen from his medicine cabinet for good measure. He popped off the cap and took three of them dry.

Rohan turned to Jotaro, head spinning from doing so, “Want some?” Jotaro shook his head, before downing some more water. Rohan shrugged, pouring himself a glass before sitting across from Jotaro, sipping on the juice and attempting to keep down any bile that made its way into his throat. He rested his forehead on his hand, elbow on the table. His eyes were shut as he tried to subdue his god-awful headache.

Jotaro, unexpectedly, broke the silence, “I'm so hungover. I've never been this hungover before.”

“I feel great. I ran a 5k this morning.”

Jotaro raised his eyebrow, giving Rohan an incredulous look, “Really.”

“No. I threw up in the shower.” Rohan punctuated the remark by standing up and vomiting in a nearby wastebasket. He wiped his mouth and sat back down, downing the juice to get the disgusting taste out of his mouth. He poured himself some more, blearily remembering that he needed to keep hydrated.

Rohan rubbed his head, massaging it and trying to alleviate his god-awful headache, “What _happened._ Why am I so hungover. Why are there so many people in my house.” 

Jotaro said nothing, simply putting his head back down on the counter and moving the ice pack. Rohan turned his head, slowly, as he heard somebody—Josuke—come down his stairs, then stared blankly as he watched as Josuke tripped on the last step and landed on his face. Jotaro moved his face slightly so he could see Josuke, eyebrow raised as he watched him trip and fall.

Josuke groaned, rubbing his face as he walked into the kitchen, finger-combing through his down, unstyled hair. He sat down next to Rohan and rested his head on his crossed arms, eyes closed and avoiding any and all light, “Oh my god what happened last night.” 

“I was hoping one of you could tell me.” Rohan said, drinking the last of his juice. 

“Well...from what I can remember...we wanted to celebrate finally beating that serial killer, that Kira guy. Then somebody suggested a party. Then somebody brought _a lot_ of alcohol.”

“I was hoping for more specifics.” Rohan said bluntly.

“Well, I'm trying to remember, so give me a second. I think Okuyasu brought a bunch of alcohol, maybe. Then we all started drinking. Then somebody got more alcohol. Then we drank _a lot_ more.”

“Well that's fine and great, but why is it at _my_ house.” 

“Quieter, please.” Jotaro hissed, readjusting his ice pack. 

Rohan gave a frustrated sigh, and Josuke continued, “I don't remember. Something like...my house wasn't big enough, or something. It took a lot of convincing, that's all I remember.” He looked over to Jotaro, “It took a lot of convincing to get you to come, too.”

Jotaro gave Josuke a glare, and Rohan buried his head in his hands, “My house is a mess.” He looked at Josuke, gaze harsh, “You and all your stupid friends are helping me clean my house up. I can't believe I even let you do this in the first place.” 

There was a knock on the door, and the two Joestars looked at Rohan, who forced himself up off the stool and dragged himself to the front door, eager to tell whoever was there to fuck off. Even if it was a fan, Kishibe Rohan was in no mood to deal with them. 

He opened the door, half-slumped over as he stared unimpressed at the sharp-dressed man at the door, “What. Is it.” 

He smiled cordially, “I apologize so dearly sir, but my car broke down and I need to use your telephone. Would you mind letting me inside?” 

Rohan sighed, closed his eyes, and mentally counted to five, “No. Find another house.” 

Rohan went to close the door before the man put his foot in the doorway, “M-My apologies, but I've been to nearly every house on the street and you're the first one who has answered. It will only take a second, I assure you.” 

Rohan rubbed the bridge of his nose and opened the door more, allowing the man to come in; he didn't have the energy to fight it, “Make it quick.” 

The man came inside and closed the door behind him, following Rohan to the closest phone. Rohan kicked the empty bottles that littered his floor out of the way, and saw that Yukako girl stir out of the corner of his eye. He continued walking, but felt himself grow heavier, with an increased difficulty to move with each step. He heard the man stop walking, and Rohan looked behind at him, confused.

“No. _No._ ” His face contorted into anger, “We took care of Kira.” 

The man smiled pleasantly, “I was given orders to take Kujo Jotaro out should Kira Yoshikage or his allies fail. It's simply business.” 

Rohan's head thumped, a combination from the hangover and the man's stand. From what he could gather, the man could control gravity, making it much heavier and causing difficulty for everybody, save him, to move. With great difficulty, Rohan turned himself around, holding back the bile in his throat and doing his best to block out the searing pain in his head.

Rohan's knees buckled, and he fell to the ground, “Heaven's Door!” He watched as Heaven's Door turned the man's face into pages, but Rohan couldn't get up to write anything. He struggled, trying to push himself up before failing, falling to the ground with his face on the floor. 

“Did something hap— _shit!_ ” He heard Josuke run in and get hit with the effect of the stand, seeing him go down to his elbows and knees out of the corner of his eye. 

“He controls gravity, or at least he makes it heavier. I can't do anything with Heaven's Door.” Rohan heard the man get up, Heaven's Door effectively wearing off, his face returning to normal. 

“I would say you have good foresight but what my stand does is rather obvious, isn't it?” He smiled, before having it wiped off his face by Crazy Diamond punching him. He was punched back into a wall, stunned, giving Crazy Diamond the perfect chance to unleash a barrage of punches. 

“I'm gonna throw up.” Josuke said, Crazy Diamond being recalled. Rohan managed to turn his head to look at him, murder in his eyes. 

“Why did you stop?! He's trying to kill us!” 

“Because I'm—.” Josuke covered his mouth, crawling back into the kitchen to throw up in a wastebasket. Rohan shuddered, the sound being absolutely disgusting. Josuke crawled back, and Jotaro followed suit, keeping himself barely standing through sheer force of will. 

“This is the worst day ever.” Josuke claimed, laying on the floor and holding himself up with his elbows. Jotaro braced himself against a wall, shaking from resisting the gravity. 

“If all he does is control gravity then he shouldn't be a problem to beat.” Jotaro faltered, “The problem comes from all of us being _extremely_ hung over. Our stands are probably about as effective as we are right now.” 

Rohan watched as the man stood up from being punched, wiping off the blood on his face with a hankie, “I wish we could have met under better circumstances.” He moved closer to the group, causing the gravity to drop even further, Rohan being barely able to breathe. Jotaro had been reduced to his knees, one arm still braced against the wall. 

Jotaro forced Star Platinum out, but Jotaro's stand was pushed to the ground, weakened from Jotaro's body being crushed by gravity and his mind being so muddled and in pain—his endurance was too low to stop time. Josuke sent out Crazy Diamond, with it yielding similar results. Rohan felt his heart pumping extremely rapidly, and kept trying to get himself up, to no avail. 

The man pulled up a chair and sat in it, crossing his legs and watching the stand users crumble, “You're all experiencing gravity at about 7g. I plan to keep increasing it until your hearts explode from having to pump the blood so fast. I apologize for your untimely, grisly deaths, but it's simply something I have to do.” 

All three turned to glare at him as best they could. 

Josuke tried calling out Crazy Diamond again, to little success, “Jotaro-san! Can't you stop time?” 

“No. Even if I could, I don't have the endurance to keep it up for longer than a second, maybe two.” 

“Oh well that's just _fantastic._ ” Rohan drawled out, blinking his eyes rapidly and attempting to make himself feel less dizzy and vomit-y. He tried to pace his breathing, but the crushing gravity made it difficult.

Rohan felt his heart beat fast and hard in his ears. _What a way to die,_ he thought, _on the ground, hung over, and with my heart about to explode._

He was broken out of his grim thoughts after he heard a loud crash. He lifted his head up off the ground, seeing the man pinned against the wall by jet black hair. He turned and looked at the ground, seeing Yukako struggling to keep him pinned, half up on her hands and knees and struggling to breathe. The man had been completely startled and caught off-guard, causing the gravity to revert to normal.

He sprung up, fatigued but lucid, “Heaven's Door!” The man's face had opened into a book, and Rohan took out his pen, and turned to Yukako, “Keep him pinned.”

“You don't need to tell me twice.” She said, voice hoarse.

“Let's see just who you are. Name, Bruce. Stand name, Don't bring me down. Born 1971, an aspiring CEO, was pierced by the arrow in the chest by Yoshishiro. You have a wife and kids but you're now divorced and she has primary custody.” Rohan made a face, “You're terrible material.” 

He quickly scribbled a note in the first blank margin he saw; _I am unable to attack anyone._ He shut the pages violently, causing Bruce's head to snap back and hit the wall with great force. He blinked, dazed, before struggling to get out of the hold Yukako had on him. 

Rohan's heartbeat slowed, but his head was pounding and felt like it was about to split open. He just barely registered Yukako coughing roughly, seeing blood come out of her mouth. Rohan almost felt inclined to help her, but the churning in his stomach was telling him to head to the bathroom or risk having to clean up more than just empty bottles off the floor.

He briskly walked past Josuke and Jotaro—the latter helping up the former—and headed towards the bathroom, hurling in the toilet. His hair was matted and sticking to his sweaty forehead, and he blundered out of the bathroom after flushing the toilet.

He bumped into Jotaro, who had a glass of water in his hand, offering it to Rohan, who took it gratefully, “May I vomit in your toilet.” 

Rohan gestured to the bathroom, and Jotaro gave a curt nod. Rohan heard Yukako release her grip on Bruce, and he fell to the ground listlessly. She rubbed one of her temples as she bumbled into a standing position, mumbling something about how much her head hurt.

She looked at Hazekura, “Did he sleep through all of that?” She blinked, “Who is this guy, anyway...?”

“I don't really care.” Rohan sipped on some more water, before raising his eyebrow at her, “It took you long enough to pin him.” 

Yukako stared blankly at him, “I had just woken up, and then I could barely even get up off the ground. The pressure I had to put on myself to just do that was enough to make me...” She showed her hand, blood splattered on her palm. Rohan wrinkled his nose.

“I'm going to go drink some more water and try to not vomit any more. I would tell you to get the hell out of my house, but I've reached the point where all I want to do is sit down and not look at any lights. You also did just save my life. Just don't throw up on anything.” 

Yukako nodded, “I'll do my best.”

–

Josuke had forcibly pulled Rohan down on the couch with him, resting one hand in his hair and the other across his back as Rohan laid on his chest, seething. Yukako had used her hair to wrap it around her eyes to keep the light out, and Jotaro leaned back in his chair, head thrown back and another ice pack on top. Hazekura stayed sound asleep in the middle of the floor. All four of them had ibuprofen flowing through their system—Josuke was too weak to use Crazy Diamond to fix them, as well as claiming he “didn't even know if he could heal things like hangovers”. 

Rohan just thought that Josuke didn't want to be the only one to suffer, the bastard.

The police had been called and informed of the intruder in Rohan's house, turning a blind eye to the preposterous amount liquor bottles scattered on the floor once Rohan flashed a few thousand yen their way. 

Okuyasu had come down soon after the police left, seemingly unaffected by the copious, _copious_ amount of alcohol he, presumably, drank. One solid glare from a baggy-eyed, pasty skinned Rohan sent him scurrying out the door. Yukako had checked on Koichi soon after that, barely making it up and down the stairs, before seeing that he was still sound asleep. 

“I can't believe a stand user tried to attack us. I can't believe we, well, Yukako and Rohan, managed to beat him. We're so hungover, how did that even _work._ ” Josuke said as quietly as he could, trying to not disturb the delicate balance the room had. 

“Hopefully Yoshishiro didn't have any more reserves like that guy.” Jotaro muttered, “I'm surprised he pulled a move like that.” 

“Even from beyond the, well, _beyond_ the beyond the grave, he's still a _dick._ ” Josuke said, moving the arm on Rohan's back over his eyes, blocking out more light. Jotaro snorted, and Yukako made a small noise in agreement. 

“I'm never drinking again.” Jotaro said, taking the icepack off of his head so he could rub his eyes. Josuke gave a short “hear, hear”. 

“You're lucky if I even let you back in my house.” Rohan hissed, looking up at Josuke, who gave a nervous laugh.

“H-Hey, come on, last night was fun, right? At least from what I remember, it was...” 

“I feel like I'm going to throw up every five minutes. I've thrown up three times today. My throat is on fire. My head feels like it's about to explode. So whatever we did last night better have been _damn_ good to make up for me feeling like hell.” 

“To be honest, all we did was drink and laugh at really silly, unfunny things.” Yukako spoke up, quietly, “Or maybe we did more. It's just a blank at this point.” 

“Oh well that's _fantastic._ ” 

–

Once Jotaro and Yukako had gotten over the worst of their hangover, they went their separate ways, promising to come back tomorrow and help clean up. Rohan was wary of their promises, but he kept that to himself. Yukako had taken the still-sleeping Koichi with her, and Hazekura had woken up briefly before they had left, being extremely confused before making his excuses and leaving. 

Rohan had attempted to line a few manga pages before Josuke hoisted him over his shoulder and threw him down on the bed. After a failed attempt at using Heaven's Door on him, Rohan relented, lying on the bed, eager to sleep off his still-painful hangover. 

Josuke's forehead rested on Rohan's stomach, one arm wrapped around his waist, “Oh man, I totally forgot to style my hair today.” Josuke said, frowning.

“We had more pressing matters to worry about.” 

“Well yeah, but...”

He looked up at Rohan, who was glaring at him. Josuke promptly shut up.

“A-Anyway, I can't believe how you and Yukako took down that guy. That was impressive.” 

“Do you underestimate me that much?” 

“No, it was just impressive how you sprung into action despite being severely hungover. I was about to throw up once the gravity dissipated.” 

“I would be flattered if I wasn't still pissed at you for making a mess out of my house.” 

Josuke grinned, and pressed a kiss to his flat stomach, “Oh by the way, I did remember something from last night. I didn't want to say it in front of everybody because, well...” Josuke flushed, “I may or may not have promised sexual favors in exchange for you drinking.” 

Rohan quickly changed their positions, flipping Josuke over and moving down to straddle him. Josuke looked at him with a mix of fear and arousal—mostly fear. 

“H-Hey, aren't we both too tired and worn out for this? I mean, we did almost die.” 

“That's a fair point.” Rohan leaned down, close to his ear, “However, I refuse.” He leaned back up, smirking at Josuke. 

Josuke rolled his eyes, and pulled Rohan down to kiss him.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 12: A close call; unsaid words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the delay, i've been in a rotten mood lately so it's been difficult to write. i hope i didn't make them too OOC!!! also yes my denial for kakyoin's death runs very deep.

Kakyoin was only barely aware of what was going on. 

His mind was muddled. His eyes were glazed over, and he struggled to stay conscious. The metal of the water tower dug into his back, his arms going numb from the position he was in. He dully registered the bleeding, the large gaping wound in his stomach ignored as his brain was blocking out the pain. He focused on he sounds of the water dripping and flowing, as it kept him just aware enough to let him know he was still alive. 

With great effort, he called out Hierophant Green. His stand unraveled and wrapped around his midsection, putting as much pressure on the wound it could. He bit his lip and nearly screamed, letting out a harsh, uneven breath. The pain came back, burning and stinging, causing his mind to go blank in an effort to block it out. 

Kakyoin focused on breathing, even inhales and exhales, in a desperate bid to stay alive. He could barely move, couldn't stand up. He worked on moving his arms, inch by inch, getting them out of the awkward position. He grunted in severe pain, having Hierophant wrap around even tighter. 

_Get up. Get up. You have to help Mr. Joestar._

He felt blood dribble out of his mouth and down his chin, letting out a loud, harsh and pained exhale as he pushed himself out of the dent he made in the water tower, falling to the slick, wet ground. He just managed to brace himself on his hands and knees before toppling over onto his side. Hierophant wrapped even tighter around him, the pain keeping him very aware of what was going on and what he needed to do to survive. 

Kakyoin's eyes were tightly shut, breaths getting harsh and uneven. He blinked to get the black spots out of his eyes, doing what he could to stay conscious, the difficulty skyrocketing the longer he stayed awake. More blood trickled out of his mouth, the taste of copper and bile rising in his throat. He curled into a ball, doing everything in his power to just stay awake. 

A few minutes passed, Kakyoin's breaths becoming shallow. He gritted his teeth, unable to do so for long as blood demanded to be coughed up. His eyelids began to droop, and he combated it by squirming, trying to get up on his elbows so he could at least crawl. The pain was too much, and he let out a harsh gasp, coughing violently before spasming and curling up tight once more. 

His eyes opened in a panic as he heard footsteps come closer, and he struggled to get into a standing position, but he could hardly move. His breathing quickened, heartbeat pounding in his ears. His eyes widened as he felt the presence get down close to him, before confusion washed over him when something covered his body. He felt himself be hoisted up, letting out a harsh, pained breath before he looked up.

“Jotaro? You...” 

Jotaro had blood running down his face and out of his mouth. Bruises covered his arms, his knuckles bloody, red and purple. His red shirt had dark splotches on it, bloody and torn. He was struggling to carry Kakyoin, his legs shaking and nearly giving out under him. Kakyoin grasped onto his shirt, holding it so tightly it could've ripped.

“Dio is dead. The Speedwagon Foundation will be here at any minute to get us. I need you to stay awake.” 

“Where's Mr. Joestar?” Kakyoin rasped out, “And Polnareff?” 

“Gramps is barely hanging on. Polnareff is alive but severely injured.” Jotaro dropped to his knees, unable to stand anymore. He kept Kakyoin close, using his now-free hand to wrap his jacket around him tighter. Kakyoin shuddered in pain as he felt Hierophant wrap around him even tighter. 

“Jotaro—.” 

“We're not losing anymore people. Just hold on. Stay awake.” 

Almost on cue, the painfully turbulent sounds of the Foundation's helicopter were heard. Kakyoin looked up, watching as it descended near the two teenagers. Two EMTs came out, rushing towards them with a stretcher. Jotaro hesitantly let go of Kakyoin, allowing the paramedics to do their jobs. Two more EMTs came out, helping Jotaro up and aiding him to the helicopter. 

Kakyoin had several paramedics around him, doing what they could to stop the bleeding. Jotaro barely paid attention as one of the paramedics came up to assess him, allowing his shirt to be lifted up so the knife wounds could be attended to. He hissed as he felt a tourniquet go around his bicep and a needle go into his arm. 

His eyes began to droop and his vision started to fade; whether it was the medicine or being completely exhausted from the fight, Jotaro soon found himself in a dreamless unconsciousness.

–

Jotaro woke in a hospital bed, an IV hooked into him and his clothes substituted with a patient gown. His right arm was heavily bandaged and in a sling; he was only able to move his fingers. Pain shot through his torso each time he adjusted, and he felt around his stomach with the arm he could move. The knife wounds Dio had given him were stitched up and bandaged; he felt some sort of lightweight brace on his back. 

His strength heavily diminished, Jotaro grit his teeth and bore the pain, managing to adjust his position from lying down to sitting on the edge with his feet nearly touching the ground. He strained as he stood up, his back and torso in blinding pain. He unhooked the IV bag and took it with him, slowly shuffling his way to and out the door. 

A haggard nurse in pink scrubs gave a double take when she saw him, “Jotaro Kujo, correct? You need to—.” 

“Just tell me which room Joseph Joestar is in.” It hurt to talk, his throat hoarse and dry. The nurse sighed. She was obviously irritated, but she relented.

“I'll take you to him. Give me one second.” The nurse disappeared from sight briefly, before pulling out a wheelchair. Jotaro raised an eyebrow and glanced down at it before he slowly, painfully sat back down in it. 

The nurse began wheeling him, “You had several deep wounds, stab wounds, in the chest, as well as two broken clavicles. Your ulna and radius are broken in your right arm, and your deltoid is severely torn in your left arm. You have a minor spinal fracture, and you need to sustain minimal movement in order for it to heal properly. Two of your ribs were broken as well. Stay on your feet as little as possible, or your spinal fracture will get worse.” 

Jotaro gave a low grunt in acknowledgment, feeling the wheelchair slow to a halt as the nurse opened the door to Joseph's room. His grandfather turned at the noise, looking raddled and worn-out. He lit up slightly when he saw Jotaro. 

The nurse wheeled him close the bed and made sure Joseph was comfortable before taking her leave. Joseph brought his hand up gently before placing it on Jotaro's head, ruffling his hair. Jotaro made an annoyed face, causing a bark of laughter to come from the elder Joestar.

“Been awake for a while, it's good to finally see you! It's nice knowing that you're all right, Jotaro.” Joseph eyed him, “Well, as all right as you can get, I suppose.” 

“Yeah. How did you...?”

“Blood transfusion from Dio. At least that's what the doctors told me; I was never good at understanding any medical mumbo-jumbo. From what they told me, though, you and Polnareff got the worst of it. Besides, well...” 

Jotaro's face turned stony, “How is he?” 

“Alive, and that's as far as I know. Have to ask one of the doctors next time they come in. We've all been out for...quite a while.” Joseph grunted in pain as he tried to sit up straighter. 

Both turned when there was a knock on the door. A middle-aged Indian doctor walked in, glasses slightly askew, allowing the bags under his eyes to be more noticeable. He looked slightly surprised when he saw Jotaro. 

“Ah, Mr. Kujo, I'm Doctor Ansari. I was informed by one of my nurses that you tried to leave your room. Please, you need to move as little as possible for the next few weeks, a spinal fracture is something to be taken seriously. You're lucky it's only mild; if it was any worse we would've had to preform surgery.” 

Jotaro sighed, frustrated, “How long do I have to wear the brace?”

“Three weeks. You should only remove it to bathe yourself.” 

Jotaro ran his free hand through his hair, too tired and luggy to be irritated, “What about Kakyoin?”

The good doctor hesitated, “We did as much as we could. There was...heavy damage to his intestines and stomach, as well as several broken ribs. He's still unconscious, and I'm sure he'll be out for a while. I'm cautiously optimistic, though. It seems highly likely he'll pull through.” The doctor's eyes widened as he saw Jotaro attempting to move his wheelchair, “Mr. Kujo?” 

“What room is he in?”

Joseph gave him a stern look, “Jotaro...” Jotaro stared back at him coolly, and Joseph sighed. 

The doctor cleared his throat, “Room 503. I would advise against it and tell you to get some rest, though.” Jotaro glared at him, and the doctor gave a weary sigh, “I'll let a nurse know.” 

–

The beeping of heart monitor was the first thing that registered with Kakyoin as his eyes opened. 

The second thing he registered was the cloudy feeling in his head. A wave of dizziness and nausea came down on him the second his eyes opened. His mind felt muddled, the anesthesia's effects still wearing off. The oxygen mask felt like a rock on his face, uncomfortable and stifling. He winced as he reached up to take it off, his arms feeling like two giant slabs of lead.

He took in a sharp, pained breath as he pushed himself up on the hospital bed. He flinched in surprise as he heard a snort next to him, whipping his head at the noise, Hierophant Green edging out. He dropped his stand and relaxed as he saw Jotaro next to his bed, staring at him with drooping eyelids.

“You're awake.” 

Kakyoin reached to rub at his head, the bandages scratching his palm, “Y-Yeah. To be honest I didn't really expect it.” He blinked, still trying to gauge his surroundings, “How long was I out?”

“You had extensive surgery, I think it was about 12 hours. Since then...about a day. Maybe longer.” Jotaro stared at him evenly, “You look like shit.”

“Then that makes two of us. Your body is more bandage than skin.” Kakyoin's face fell, “How long have you been there?”

“A while. I must've fallen asleep. The doctors tried to get me to leave a few times.” 

“Have you eaten anything?”

“Haven't been hungry. Just been drinking water.”

Kakyoin sighed, and grasped the thin hospital blankets, his hands clenching around them, “How did you even get in my room?”

“I asked.” 

Kakyoin averted his gaze, staring at his hands that were clutching the blankets. The conversation had turned awkward, unsaid words hanging in the air. He heard an annoyed sigh come out of Jotaro, hearing the creaking of the wheelchair as he adjusted himself. Kakyoin's head turned slightly as an arm being placed on his bed made the bed dip. 

“Kakyoin—.”

Kakyoin gave him a stern, cool look, “It was my decision to come along. Neither of us could have predicted what happened. I'm not delicate; I knew what I was getting into.” Kakyoin's face softened as he felt Jotaro's fingers cover his own, “How is Mr. Joestar? And Polnareff?” 

“Gramps is fine, just looks older than usual. Polnareff is awake now; he came up to see you about an hour before I passed out. He was pretty...interesting; I'm assuming it's from the pain meds.” 

Kakyoin gave a low chuckle, smiling wistfully. He turned to look at Jotaro, his eyes soft and calming. He allowed one of his hands to be taken, letting small, chaste kisses pressed against his palm and fingertips.

“I almost got to you too late.” Jotaro murmured, his words interrupted by kisses. 

“We should've figured out what The World could do earlier. I was too reckless.” He smiled gently at Jotaro, “I'm sorry.”

Jotaro stopped his unusual affection, tangling their fingers together, “Don't.”

“Jotaro—.”

“Noriaki. Don't.” Kakyoin's eyes widened at the use of his first name. His lips tightened in a thin line, and he let out a small, frustrated sigh. 

A heavy, thick silence fell over the room. Both wanted to put the blame on themselves, wanting to give some sort of solace to the other. He felt Jotaro squeeze his hand tightly, a little too tightly, before lifting his hand up to kiss it again.

He stopped and dropped his hand when there was a knock on the door. Joseph and Polnareff came in, boisterous and booming. Kakyoin gave an embarrassed, sheepish smile, and laughed as Polnareff ruffled his hair. The elder Joestar gave him a bone-crushing hug, and Kakyoin had to pound on his back just to get him to get off.

“You really are something, Kakyoin!” Polnareff said, smiling large and toothy at him, “Managed to use Hierophant Green to keep yourself alive, that's incredible!” 

“I-I guess? I just did what I could. I did what I thought would help.” He laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Still, it's good to see you're all right. Jotaro seemed to be especially worried, he's just been sitting there for hours!” Joseph said and Jotaro gave him an exasperated look, “Well, he was the one who found you, after all.”

Kakyoin smiled gently at Jotaro, who reflexively reached up to adjust his cap before realizing he wasn't wearing it. He averted his eyes, embarrassed. Kakyoin raised an eyebrow at him and gave an amused smile; Jotaro just glared at him. 

Kakyoin's face turned somber, “Are Avdol and Iggy...what's going to happen to them?” 

His question cut through the joyful tone like a knife; all of them averted their eyes and didn't quite know what to say, until Joseph spoke up, “They're at the morgue. Avdol is going to be buried in his home town; Iggy's going to be buried with him.”

A small “oh” made its way out of Kakyoin's mouth, “I...see. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring down the mood.” 

“No, don't apologize. It's understandable that you want to know what happened to them.” Joseph put a hand on his shoulder and gently squeezed, “It's all right, Kakyoin.” 

He gave the elder Joestar a bittersweet smile, “It's not, not really, but thank you for telling me.” His demeanor brightened, and he looked toward Jotaro, “Jotaro, why don't you tell us all how you defeated Dio? I'd like to know.”

“Oh man, Jotaro you gotta tell us!” Polnareff said, eyes lighting up, “Did he beg for mercy? Did he try to bargain with you?” 

Joseph laughed, “Polnareff, calm down. Let Jotaro speak!” 

Jotaro let out a sigh, then gave a rare smile, “All right. So...”

–

One week later, all of them out of the hospital, they had to acknowledge that it was time to go back home. 

Once Joseph had recovered, more or less, he had used the Ripple to quickly heal any and all broken bones the group had, and heal any other injuries he could. It had taken much coercion to get Jotaro to agree to it, being more wary of his grandfather than the Ripple itself. Still, the momentary discomfort was worth the quick healing of his injuries. 

Polnareff had taken a separate plane at the airport, turning down Joseph's offer for him to come to New York, claiming that France was his home. He had given Kakyoin a crushing hug, nearly lifting him up in the air. Jotaro had broken his stoicism, only a little, shedding a few tears as he watched Polnareff leave, giving the Frenchman a short, brotherly hug. Kakyoin had watched with amusement, but had decided to stay quiet. 

Joseph had fallen asleep on the plane in record time. Jotaro, Kakyoin and Joseph were squished together in the three seats, but it gave Kakyoin the excuse to put his armrest up and discreetly link his fingers with Jotaro's. 

Kakyoin's tongue felt heavy and uncomfortable in his mouth, unsaid words desperate to be let out. He turned to Jotaro and squeezed his hand, before taking his seatbelt off and standing up and heading to the bathroom. He had Hierophant wrap around Jotaro's arm, pulling him gently as a sign. 

He stood in the cramped airplane bathroom with his back to the door, waiting for Jotaro to join him. It could seem suspicious that they were in the bathroom at the same time, but it was a risk Kakyoin was willing to take. He turned his head at the sound of a door opening, watching as Jotaro ducked his head and locked the door behind him. 

Rough, coarse hands grabbed the sides of his face and pulled him in for a dominating kiss. Kakyoin wrapped his arms around Jotaro's neck, his hands going up in his hair, nearly knocking his cap off. One of Jotaro's hands moved from his face to wrap tightly around his back, pulling him as close as he could. He felt himself being turned around and pushed against the locked door, Jotaro's mouth on his all the while.

Kakyoin felt dizzy as Jotaro's tongue teased and tangled against his own, desperate and wanting. The arm around his back moved down, and Kakyoin grunted as he felt his ass being squeezed. He inhaled sharply, feeling Jotaro's mouth move from his own to his ear, biting and teasing. Kakyoin moved his hands, wrapping his arms around Jotaro's broad back and grasping his jacket, biting his lip to keep quiet as he kissed and sucked his exposed neck.

He kissed his way back to Kakyoin's mouth, taking it and dominating the kiss; Kakyoin didn't have the energy to fight back. He gave a small, quiet moan when he felt Jotaro cup his ass again, running his tongue against Kakyoin's, tilting his head to get a better angle. He felt one of Kakyoin's hands fall off his back, losing its grip, and he grabbed it, entangling their fingers and putting it up against the door. 

They finally pulled away after some time, out of breath and panting. Kakyoin's hand slid to his shoulder, digging his fingers in his coat. He rested his forehead against Jotaro's chest, feeling Jotaro's head rest on top of his own. He let Kakyoin's hand go and it fell limply to his side. He wrapped his free arm diagonally on his back, his hand resting on the back of Kakyoin's head.

“You're alive.” Kakyoin felt Jotaro's chest rumble as he spoke.

“I am.” He felt Jotaro's grasp on him tighten. 

“You're here.” 

“I am.” 

“I...” Jotaro paused, trying to find the right words. His eyes widened slightly as he felt Kakyoin's hand on his jaw.

“It's all right. I know.” Jotaro leaned into his hand, closing his eyes. He wrapped his arms around Kakyoin again, pulling him in tightly. 

Jotaro slowly moved off, and Kakyoin felt the warm heat in his body dissipate. Jotaro hovered near him, their hands still linked together. Kakyoin gave a small, exasperated smile.

“I'm not leaving anytime soon. Go back to your seat, I'll be there soon. You are in the middle, after all.” 

He adjusted his cap, and tilted Kakyoin's head up, kissing him gently, before working his way out of the cramped bathroom. Kakyoin stood to the side, careful to not be seen. He worked out any wrinkles in his shirt, before walking out of the bathroom a few minutes later. 

Jotaro looked up slightly as he saw him coming, shifting slightly so Kakyoin could sit down. He buckled back up, and gave a small smile as he felt Jotaro's hand on his, his large, blue jacket obscuring the view. 

Kakyoin closed his eyes, and began to doze off. His mind was filled with worries and unsaid words, but Japan was more than 10 hours away, and he could think about it later.

He had time now.

They had time now.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 13: That cute barista with the wings in his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was the longest thing i've written so far!! i actually like it quite a lot. i'm planning on starting a jotaro/kakyoin fic soon oops is my bias showing

“Joseph. Please go get me some coffee.” Lisa Lisa peered up from her laptop briefly, staring at Joseph patiently. He stuck out his tongue childishly.

“Are you too busy trying to _out-business_ people?” Lisa Lisa's face turned unimpressed, reaching into her pocket and throwing her wallet at him. 

“I'm in the middle of something important. Caramel frappucino, please. There should be a ten in there, if you want to get yourself something.” She looked at Joseph until he rolled his eyes and stood up, his scarf nearly catching on a stray metal hook on the table, before he got in line. All Joseph wanted to do was grab a coffee, maybe a scone, and head home after his only class for the day ended. 

The coffee shop was a little out of the way, but Yelp hadn't said anything bad about it, so he had taken the risk. It was a nice place; it was small, but it had a sort-of rustic feeling, with the brown, jagged tile floor, the light brown colored wallpaper, and some impressionistic paintings and sculptures that lined the walls. A fireplace surrounded by fairly plush, comfortable-looking chairs made the entire place feel very cozy.

He hadn't expected to find his mother there, apparently on lunch break—or she had left work early. Regardless, the initial surprise of seeing her gave him the excuse to sit with her and not look like a weirdo sitting at a table all by himself, trying to look important on his phone when all he was doing was playing Tetris. 

Well, it would've been better to sit with her if she hadn't practically _interrogated_ him about how he was doing, how his grades were, how rugby team was, how his friends were, etc. She even tacked on a short lecture on telling him to stop listening to his music so damn loud at home. Joseph had maturely and responsibly stuck his tongue out at her in response. 

He finally made it to the front of the line, but the barista was busy putting up orders on some sort of metal holder. Joseph's eyes widened and a cheeky grin formed on his face when the barista turned around, face red from working, and little wings in his hair drooping down.

He sighed, and put on a practiced smile, “Hi, how can I help you?” 

Joseph's grin never faltered, and he leaned up to put his elbow on the counter, head on his fist, “It's good to meet you...” Joseph paused, looking at his name tag, “Caesar? Like Julius Caesar?” 

Caesar looked at him, exasperation in his eyes, “Can I just take your order, please?” 

“All right, all right. Small black coffee, tall caramel frappucino. Eh, and one of those scones, too.” A charming, doofy smile made its way to Joseph's face, “As well as your number?” 

Caesar stared at him darkly, “No. That'll be 7.50.” He swiped the bill from Joseph's hand so hard he almost took his fingers with him. 

Joseph winced, watching as Caesar took out the receipt and change, all but slamming it on the counter. He stared at Joseph without any amusement, and raised his eyebrow.

“Are you done?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Joseph grinned slyly at him as he stepped out of line, “Your next words will be, “I just want to clock out and go home!”.”

“I just want to clock out and go home...” Caesar muttered, before snapping his head up at Joseph and looking at him with heavy bemusement. He let out a frustrated sigh, before turning to the next customer. Joseph sneaked looks at him while he waited for his order, and caught Caesar doing the same—although he was looking at him with more exasperation and irritation than interest or fondness. Joseph whistled off as he grabbed his order, grinning as he sat back in his seat across his mother. 

Lisa Lisa muttered a curt “thank you” as she took the coffee, nearly drinking one-fourth of it in one sitting. Joseph paid her no mind, grinning wide and his eyes bright as he chewed his scone. He must have attracted Lisa Lisa's attention, because she was looking at him with a quirked brow.

“You're much more giddy than you were five minutes ago. I hope you're not planning something, Joseph.” 

He feigned horror, “I would never! How could you think of me so?” 

Lisa Lisa rolled her eyes, and Joseph went back to planning ways he could get a date with that cute barista with the wings in his hair.

–

Joseph practically waltzed into the coffee shop, loosening his scarf that he had wrapped tightly around himself due to the frigid cold outside. His mood lit up when he saw the barista—Caesar—leaning at the counter and looking bored. He made a face of disdain when he saw Joseph come through the door, to which Joseph put his hands up as a sign of surrender. 

The cafe was fairly empty, so Joseph had no problem waltzing up to the counter, “It seems I made a bad impression yesterday.” He watched Caesar raise an eyebrow, “So! I would like to apologize. I just find you to be very...interesting.” 

Joseph held out his hand, and Caesar stood up straighter, looking at it before tentatively shaking it, “O...kay. Thanks. I guess.” He dropped his hand and stared at Joseph blankly, “You started hitting on me yesterday. Do you really think I'm gay?”

Joseph blinked slowly, “You mean you're not?” He put his hand over his mouth and looked down, “Was I wrong...?” He muttered.

Caesar flushed, “That's not something I really want to discuss with a complete stranger!” 

Joseph gave a large smile, and jabbed his thumb at himself, “Well anyway, I'm Joseph Joestar. Now we're not strangers anymore.” 

“Joseph Joestar?” Caesar quirked an eyebrow, then smirked, “Nice to meet you, _Jojo.”_

Joseph made a face, “H-Hey, just call me Joseph! I haven't been called Jojo since I was in elementary...” 

Caesar smiled wickedly, “I think Jojo suits you better. Sounds like a name for a monkey.” 

Joseph gritted his teeth and glared at him, before a smug smile appeared on his lips, “Well if we're going to play it that way, then it's good to finally make your acquaintance, Caesar- _chan.”_

Caesar furrowed his eyebrows, his face red, “Th-That's...” Caesar crossed his arms and turned his head. 

“Oh~! So you like manga too?” Joseph leaned up closer to Caesar, grinning like a loon. 

Caesar turned his head, face still red—from anger or embarrassment, Joseph didn't know, “It doesn't matter. Whatever. Are you going to order something, _Jojo?_ Or are you going to just stand here bothering me?” 

Joseph pursed his lips, “I just wanted to stop in to make amends. I suppose I'll just take my leave now. I hope to see you again soon, Caesar-chan~!”

“If you're not gonna order anything, then fine.” 

Joseph smirked at him, “Your next line will be, “I can finally get you out of my hair!”.”

“I can finally get you out of my hair...” Caesar muttered, before furrowing his eyebrows, and giving Joseph a confused, baffled look once more. Joseph smiled widely, before he winked and blew a kiss at Caesar, causing the blond to face-palm. He glared at Joseph's back as he tightened his scarf and walked out the door. 

He went back to leaning on the counter, putting his elbows on it and his chin in his hands. His mind was fixated on Joseph, and how much of a pain in the ass he was. A small smile formed on his face, despite his best efforts. Jojo was a complete jackass, but Caesar couldn't help but be amused by him. 

_Well whatever._ He shoved the thought out of his mind and put on a smile as a customer walked up, “How may I help you?”

–

“Ce-sar- _chaaaan~!”_ Joseph smiled brightly at Caesar as he made his way toward the counter once more. Caesar gave him a look of exasperation, before a giving a small smile, shaking his head.

“A freight train is quieter than you are. Come to bother me again, Jojo?” 

Joseph leaned up on the counter, cheek on his palm, “What are those little pink things on your face?” He reached up with the hand he wasn't leaning on and poked one of them, right before having his hand taken in a crushing grip.

“They're things you're not allowed to _touch.”_ Caesar gave him a harsh glare, before he released the death-grip he had on Joseph's hand, allowing him to take his hand back. He held it close to his chest, wincing, and smiled nervously at Caesar. 

“Jee _eee_ ez. Well what about...” Joseph flicked one of the wings in his hair, and Caesar flushed. 

“It's part of my bandanna, dumbass. See?” He pulled down his bandanna slightly, and the wings moved with it, “Was a gift from my grandpa before he died.”

“Oh...Well, at least it makes you look good~!” Joseph smiled and Caesar rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless.

“So, do you have an order to place or are you just going to waste my time?” Caesar tapped his knuckles on the counter, “I am on the clock, you know.” 

“Hmm...When's your next break?” 

Caesar blinked, “I get off work in like an hour and a half. Why...?” Caesar's eyes widened, “Are you _seriously_ —." 

“I'll buy you lunch. There's this sub place only a block away.”

Caesar flushed, and buried his head in his hands. He could feel Joseph leaning close to him. His mind raced with options, debating on whether or not he should take up Joseph's offer. He took his head out of his hands and flinched in surprise when he saw Joseph barely an inch away from his face, looking at him curiously. 

He sighed. It _was_ a free meal.

“Fine. But you better stick to your promise of paying.” 

“Of course! I would never renege when it came to somebody like you.” 

Caesar stared at him evenly, “Whatever. Just get out of my hair while I'm still working!” He made shooing gestures to Joseph, who pouted, and made his way to a table, pulling out a laptop and typing away on it. 

He saw Joseph sneaking glances at him ever so often when he thought Caesar wasn't looking. He was almost always caught, causing him to give an embarrassed grin. Business had started to pick up about half an hour before he was supposed to leave. By the time he clocked out, his bangs were nearly sticking to his forehead and his feet felt like they had blisters on them. Every step felt like he was walking on knives.

He threw his apron on the hook and wiped his forehead, eager for the free meal he was going to get. Joseph waved to him from his table, closing his laptop and shoving it in his messenger bag. Caesar gave him an exasperated look as he pulled his jacket on, wrapping his purple striped scarf around his neck. 

“I can't feel my feet. You'd better keep your promise.” Caesar muttered, and Joseph smiled at him as they walked to the exit.

“Of course I will! Honestly, you should have better faith in me, Caesar-chan.” Caesar rolled his eyes, but said nothing. He winced with the first few steps on the sidewalk, his feet sore from working three days in a row. 

Joseph seemed to notice his pain, and tilted his head, “Are you okay?”

“No. My feet are killing me. I'm not looking forward to walking home.” Caesar muttered Italian curses under his breath. 

“I could carry you, if you want?” Joseph looked at Caesar, wiggling his eyebrows. Caesar stared at him, unamused. 

“No. I've had worse pain than this. Besides, you'd probably just drop me.” Caesar took great amusement in Joseph's baffled face, before it turned to one of annoyance. 

The walk to the sub place was mercifully short, and Caesar hesitantly let Joseph take care of the orders while he sat down, reveling in being off of his feet. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, feeling tired and gross, unable to get the smell of coffee out of his brain. He was still confused as to why Joseph was so interested in _him,_ of all people, but if humoring him was the best way to get free food, then, well, Caesar wasn't complaining. 

Still, he didn't appreciate the nickname that made him sound like a Japanese schoolgirl. 

He was broken from his trance when he heard the metal scraping of the chair across from him. Joseph held two wrapped sandwiches, passing one to Caesar, who muttered a “thank you”. He quickly dug into it, apparently more hungry than he realized. He was about halfway through his sandwich before he felt Joseph staring at him.

He swallowed his bite, “What? Do I have something on my face or something?”

“Well besides those little pink things, no.” Joseph pursed his lips, “I'm curious about you.”

Caesar quirked an eyebrow, “Why? I don't really lead an exciting life.” 

“I can't really explain it, but I would just like to learn more about you.” Joseph rested his cheek on his palm, “Plus, you are quite attractive.” 

Caesar flushed, “This again?” He sighed, “Well you're buying me lunch so I guess I can tell you whatever. What did you want to know?” 

“Well I never got your last name. I only figured out your name was Caesar from your name tag.” 

“Zeppeli. Caesar Zeppeli.”

Joseph quirked a brow, “I believe that's the most Italian name I've ever heard.” 

Caesar snickered, “Yeah.” He stared at Joseph, amused, “What gave it away, the fact that my last name sounds like a kind of pasta dish or the fact that I share my name with a Roman emperor?” 

Joseph smiled cheekily, “I figured it out when I first met you. By the way, you never told me what those little pink things are.” 

“Just face markings. I don't know if they're birthmarks, but they look cool.” Caesar said smugly, finishing off his sandwich. 

Joseph made a face, and reached up to try and poke one of them again. Caesar responded by taking his hand in a death grip again, glaring at Joseph. Joseph gave a wary smile, before Caesar let his hand go again. 

“You must practice crushing apples.” 

“Martial Arts. Karate when I was a kid, Akido now.” Caesar sat back in his seat, arms crossed, “I could hurl you across the room if I wanted.” 

“You display your affection to people in very strange ways!” Joseph said, with a shudder. Caesar shook his head.

“Affection is a strong word, Jojo.” Caesar said dryly, but couldn't help but grin, “Tolerate is more what I was thinking.” 

Joseph made a face of mock-sadness, “You _wound_ me, Caesar-chan!” 

Caesar rolled his eyes as hard as he could, “Thanks for the lunch, but I should get going.” Caesar rattled his brain for a second, before sighing, “Do you have a pen?” 

“You have one in your back pocket.” 

“Wh—.” He felt his back pocket, and pulled out one of the five cent pens they kept at the cafe, and pulled it out, looking at Joseph with a baffled look on his face, “How did you—never mind.” He quickly scribbled on a napkin before handing it to Joseph. Joseph blinked in confusion a few times before taking it and staring at it, a grin spreading all over his face. 

“Just don't blow up my inbox. Text me and I'll be able to get yours too.” Caesar stood up and pushed his chair in, throwing away his trash as he walked towards the exit, “Thanks for the food. I'm sure you'll be by some other time to bother me.” Caesar smiled, but his head was turned so Joseph couldn't see, “Just warn me before you do.”

The bell chimed as he walked out and shut the door. Joseph stared dumbly at the space where Caesar had been, before taking out his phone and adding the number to his phone, grinning all the while.

–

Caesar felt his phone buzz five minutes after he had left the restaurant. He stopped walking and raised his eyebrow, tapping the screen and getting it out of sleep mode. 

_516-285-6476_

_I'll be dropping by next time you work. :D_

_xoxo JOSEPH <3_

_p.s. Your next line is, “What an idiot”!_

Caesar shook his head, “What an idiot...” He blinked, and then swore in Italian under his breath.

–

It had been about a month since the two of them had first gone out for lunch and Caesar—god help him—couldn't help but feel _fond_ of Joseph.

He was a pain in the ass, sure, but he was endearing in his own way. Caesar couldn't help but light up just a bit whenever he received a text from him. It made him both equally happy and irritated at himself for being so elated for when the idiot texted him. 

He watched as Joseph looked weirdly intense, typing away on his laptop. It had become a routine thing by this point; Joseph texted him, asked when he worked, he responded, and like clockwork, Joseph would show up. He always patiently waited however long he had to for Caesar to get off work, tapping away on his laptop and sneaking glances as he did. As soon as Caesar clocked out, he was there, ready to go, wanting to take Caesar out to eat or just find somewhere to sit and talk. 

“Jeez, just ask him out already.” 

Caesar was snapped out of his thoughts, and he turned to look at who spoke to him, “Oh, Suzi Q. I thought you were...” Caesar scrunched up his face, “Wait, what?” 

She rolled her eyes, “He comes to see you ever day you work. The only reason he hasn't asked you out yet is because you're...” She eyed him, “Well, you.” 

Caesar raised an eyebrow at her, before turning to look at Joseph again, “He's convinced himself I'm gay.”

She looked at him curiously, “You mean you're not?”

Caesar brought a hand to cover his flushed face, “That—That's beside the point.”

She smiled at him, “Yeah, okay. But c'mon, he's been coming around like a lost puppy for two weeks. You've been going on dates, too.”

“It's just _lunch._ Not dates.” Suzi Q gave him a look, but she quickly turned her attention to the Joestar coming up towards the counter. 

“Caesar-chan~! Let's go get dinner tonight!” Joseph said, slamming his hands on the counter; he turned to Suzi Q, “Oh, Suzi Q! Good to see you too!” 

Caesar blinked, and gave Suzi Q the side eye when he heard her giggling, “What did you have in mind, Jojo?” 

“Aldea! I should be able to make a reservation since it's still pretty early in the day.”

Both Caesar and Suzi Q's eyes widened, “J-Jojo isn't that...extremely expensive?” 

Joseph waved his hand absentmindedly, “Ah, I'm a regular there, don't worry. Still have to make a reservation, though.” 

“You—what?” Caesar stared at him, flabbergasted, and Joseph looked at him expectantly, “I—sure, yeah.” 

Joseph gave a small smile, his eyes twinkling, “I'll see you at seven!” 

He practically skipped out the door, giving a short wave to Suzi Q and Caesar as he did. Suzi Q stared at Caesar, eyes wide. She pouted, and crossed her arms, giving him a look of absolute jealousy. 

“Jeez, you're so lucky! You get to go have an expensive dinner at a super nice place and I'm stuck here 'till six.” 

“Yeah, and I'm gonna go clock out right now. Have fun.” 

He could feel Suzi Q's glare on his back as he went to go put his apron up.

–

Caesar felt extremely out of place at the restaurant. It was much nicer than any place he'd ever been, and the food was better than anything he'd ever had. He wasn't used to having nice things thrust upon him; having six younger siblings to take care of, he'd gotten used to giving them the bigger piece of the pie—metaphorically and sometimes, literally. Having to fumble his way through community college—paid on scholarship, thank god—did not make things easier, and with his job, he barely scraped by month by month.

Joseph had his chin resting on folded hands, pursing his lips and looking at Caesar. He had gone all-out. His normal casual attire of a scarf, a coat and jeans had been done away with, being replaced with a deep aqua suit and a white undershirt. Caesar felt insecure; when Joseph had told him to “dress nice”, he had only thrown on a nice long-sleeved shirt and some slacks after staring blankly at his closet for ten minutes.

“Okay. It's time for you to tell me just how the hell you can afford this place.” 

Joseph's head quirked up, and he shrugged, “I have a very...wealthy family. Uncle Speedwagon is very generous as well.”

“S-Speedwagon?!” Caesar's eyes widened, and his jaw dropped slightly, “He's...good lord.” 

“I'm working my way through college; close to graduating, actually. Hopefully once I get a good job I can take care of grandma Erina.” He scratched his chin, “B-But, well, she'll probably be comfortable...but still!” 

Caesar gave him a genuine, surprised look, “That's...really sweet of you, actually.” 

Joseph blinked, and opened to mouth to say something, before closing it. Caesar found it amusing that he was, for once, at a loss for words. 

Caesar tapped on the tablecloth, his lips tightened to a thin line, “You know, I still don't understand why you're doing this for all me.” 

Joseph looked genuinely surprised; he averted his eyes, his face turning slightly pink, “I like you. And even if that wasn't the case, we're friends!” 

Caesar buried his head in his hands, flushing, and praised god that the main course had come, taking the liberty to shove as much of it in his mouth as he could to distract himself from the fact that he may have feelings for this weirdo who's been taking him out on lunch dates. He'd had many romantic trysts, men and women alike, and while saying Joseph was “different” felt both cliché and made Caesar want to cringe from how ridiculous he sounded, it was, nonetheless, true. 

The fact that he was loaded also helped.

Unfortunately, he couldn't get away with ignoring it forever, and as soon as the two of them had finished their food, Caesar took a deep breath, and looked up, ready to let him know his feelings were reciprocated. His eyes widening when he felt Joseph's hand on his cheek and his lips on his. Caesar kissed back, tentatively and a little stilted from the surprise, before Joseph pulled away, smirking.

“Your next line will b—mphm!” 

Joseph was cut off by Caesar leaning over and kissing him, intertwining their fingers together.

–

It was snowing outside, and Joseph had proposed they hold hands as to “keep the other one from slipping”. Caesar believed it for maybe a second, but let his cold hand be taken in Joseph's slightly larger, gloved one anyway.

Caesar's face was obscured below his nose by his scarf, so his words came out muffled, “Are you going to keep visiting me at work?”

Joseph turned to him, puzzled, “Why wouldn't I?” 

“You can't be so—so affectionate towards me at work. It could cause problems.” Caesar looked at Joseph out of the corner of his eye, who seemed to take the idea into consideration, “I don't mind going out to lunch, but you can't be all over me when I'm working.” 

“Then I will have to pay it back twofold in private.” He smiled at Caesar, genuine and toothy and Caesar felt himself getting embarrassed. 

He watched as Joseph went back to contemplating. They stayed in silence for a while, the sounds of traffic and nighttime chatter from passersby filling in the silence between them. 

Finally, Joseph spoke up, “So does this make us...?”

Caesar shrugged, “It is what you want it to be.” 

Joseph smiled, “Then I would like it to be you and me together.”

Caesar shook his head and smiled, “Dumbass.” 

Joseph turned to pull down his scarf and kissed him.

–

They had barely made it into Caesar's apartment before they were all over each other—Caesar pushed up against the door and Joseph running his hands under and up his shirt, grinding and thrusting against him and Caesar could barely keep his mind straight. 

He was tugging on Joseph's scarf, throwing it somewhere out of the room, and nearly tore off his shirt in an attempt to get it off of him. Joseph began working on his pants, fiddling with his belt and his pant button. Caesar dully noted how he was built like a brick shithouse as Joseph grinded against him, his mouth sucking on his neck. 

Caesar's mind was too blank and hazy to acknowledge the hand Joseph didn't have on Caesar's waist was coming up towards his cheek, stroking it in a tender sign of affection as his lips moved up to capture Caesar's once more. Caesar's eyes widened and he shuddered, pulling away from the kiss. 

“C-Caesar, are you all right?” Caesar was bright red, and Joseph stroked his face again. He shuddered even harder, biting back a loud, shameful moan.

“D-Did you touch one of my markings?” He managed to get out in-between pants. Joseph furrowed his eyebrows, and then widened his eyes to an almost comical degree.

“So that's why—.”

“ _Yes.”_

Caesar watched in abject horror as Joseph developed a wicked grin and went to attack his neck once more, his thumb rubbing all over the pink marking on his face as he grinded mercilessly against Caesar. Caesar felt his knees buckle, and he grasped onto Joseph's back for leverage.

They were in for a long night.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 14: The golden boy is intelligent, ruthless, and hell to deal with when he's ill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man sorry this is so short!! i'm kind of running out of ideas but i've still got a few more ideas and man maybe i can write more porn!! man have i mentioned how much i like writing it. also i think team mom bucalletti is my new favorite thing.

“Giorno. How long have you been working?” 

Giorno looked up at Bruno, his eyebrow raised, “Since eight this morning, why?” 

Bruno had been in earlier to ask him what he wanted for lunch, noticing that all color in his face was completely devoid, and Giorno was fairly pale to begin with. Three hours later, his cheeks and most of his face had turned bright red, and he looked like he was about to pass out, half slumped over his desk still looking through those reports, with his hand shaking from trying to hold the pen. It didn't take much to see that Giorno was sick. 

He walked up towards his young boss, pulling back his sleeve and pushing Giorno's bangs back as he put his wrist to his forehead, “You're burning up. _Christo,_ you're hotter than when Narancia had the flu two months ago.”

Giorno waved his hand absentmindedly, “I'll be fine. It's nothing I can't handle.” 

Bucalletti gave him a look. 

Giorno became flustered, unusual of him, “I-I promise you, I'm fine. Just a passing feeling, I'm sure. There's no need for you to be concerned.” 

“As one of your closest friends, and somebody who has known you for quite a while, I say this with as much love and care as I possibly can: you're being a _moron._ Now please get up and go to your room and lie down. I'm sure these reports can wait, and if not, I'll look over them myself.” 

“I _assure_ you I'm fine, please—.” 

“Mista! Get in here!” Giorno stared at him, confused, and Bucalletti tapped his foot impatiently as he waited the two seconds it would take Mista to get into Giorno's office. 

The door opened, and Mista stumbled in, Narancia and Fugo trying to look inconspicuous as they listened in, “Yeah, hey, what's up?” He blinked dumbly, and looked at Giorno, “Giorno, you okay? You look pretty uh, terrible.” 

Bruno turned his head toward Mista, “That's exactly why I called you in here. Please...escort Giorno to his room so he can get rest.” 

Mista stared at him briefly, before it clicked, “ _Ohhh._ Okay.” Giorno stilled as Mista walked towards him, “Sorry Giorno.”

“Wha—.” He was picked up and thrown over Mista's shoulder, briefly confused before he began to pound on Mista's back with his fists, “Mista! Put me _down!”_

“Sorry, can't do that. Sake of the company and all that.”

“Company...?” Bucalletti looked at him curiously, and Mista shrugged, ignoring the resisting Giorno, “It doesn't matter. Just get him to a bed, and make him stay using...” Bucalletti smiled, “Using whatever means necessary.” 

Mista flushed, “G-Gotcha.” 

“ _Dammit_ , Mista, put me down! I'm fine!” 

“Afraid I can't do that. Hey, Fugo or Narancia, one of you guys open the door!” The doorknob wiggled before it was thrown open, Fugo holding it back while Narancia snickered at Giorno. Bucalletti bit back a laugh as he saw Giorno glare at both of them, looking like an irritated cat. 

Bucalletti leaned against the desk and picked up the paper Giorno was working on, and sighed. He could at least help lighten Giorno's load.

~–~

“Mista you— _oof_.” 

Giorno felt himself bounce slightly as he was haphazardly tossed onto the bed, slightly dazed. He felt the bed dip and soon felt a weight on his lower torso—Mista. He straddled him, holding him down as best he could. 

“Mista, get _off_.” 

“Sorry, I can't. If I do, you'll try to escape.”

“Mista—.”

“You've been overworking yourself like crazy lately, it's no wonder you got sick.” Mista folded his arms, and Giorno looked pained.

“Please, Mista—.” 

“C'mon Giorno, be reasonable. You look awful. If you could see yourself right now, you'd agree with Bucalletti's dec—.” 

“Mista, I can't breathe get _off!”_

Mista made a surprised “oh” sound, before scrambling off Giorno, sitting to the side of him. He knew Giorno would try to go back to working, so Mista pulled him into his lap and wrapped his arms tightly around his stomach. Giorno, realizing he wasn't going to get out of this, relaxed, and sighed.

“God, you are really hot. Temperature wise, I mean.” 

“I thought it was just a passing virus. I supposed I'll have to trust Bucalletti with Passione's affairs for the time being.” 

“Hey, Bucalletti can handle it. Don't worry about him.”

Giorno shifted his position, sitting sideways in Mista's lap, “I'm not worried about him, I would just prefer to do it myself. He has, and always will have, my full trust; I just prefer to do these things myself, that's all.”

“That makes sense.” Mista pulled Giorno closer, pursing his lips, “Don't overwork yourself that much though. You only remember to eat because Bucalletti or Narancia comes and reminds you.” 

Giorno smiled softly, “You're right. I apologize for being so haphazard. I'll better trust you and Bucalletti regarding my health in the future. I do tend to push myself farther than I should.” 

Mista placed a small kiss on top of Giorno's head, before undoing his braid and tangling his fingers in Giorno's hair, “Do you need anything? You're burning up, so maybe some cold water or something?”

“No, no thank you. I think I'll just...” He felt Giorno relax against him, his breathing evening out. 

Mista raised an eyebrow, _I didn't even know people could fall asleep mid-sentence._

Nonetheless, he buried his face in Giorno's hair, rocking him gently in his arms.

~–~

“Is he asleep?” 

Mista nodded, “Out like a light. He passed out mid-sentence. I didn't even know that was a thing.” 

Bucalletti smiled softly, “Apparently so.” 

Hard, quick footsteps echoed loudly throughout the palazzo. Bucalletti and Mista snapped their heads towards the sound, seeing an out of breath Narancia holding himself up against the archway. 

“Giorno...snuck into his office...he's passed out on his desk.” Bucalletti and Mista looked at each other, before Bruno gave Mista a stern look. 

“You told me he was asleep.”

“He was! He must've faked it or something. Augh he is _so_...” Mista shook his head, “Never mind. Let's just get him back to bed. Handcuff him to it if we have to.” 

Bucalletti raised an eyebrow at Mista as he stood up from his chair, “Do you know from experience if that will work?” 

Mista shot Bucalletti a dirty glare, before the two rushed up to Giorno's office. 

It was worse than they had thought. Narancia had moved Giorno from his desk, attempting to hold him up on his feet, and failing. Bucalletti had swooped in at just the right moment before both Narancia and Giorno had tumbled to the ground, grabbing Giorno and scooping him into his arms. 

“Thank you, Narancia. Go wash your hands, I don't think have two people sick would be the best idea.” Narancia nodded and gave him a weary thumbs-up. Bucalletti turned on his heel, walking out the large double-doors from Giorno's office and heading to his room, Mista following in tow. 

Bucalletti gave an exasperated sigh as he placed Giorno on the bed; he was too hot, so putting him under any blankets would hardly be a good idea. He gave a curt “ _scusi_ ” to Mista before heading to the bathroom and taking a small washcloth, running cold water over it and wringing it out. 

Bucalletti turned to Mista, sitting on the bed next to Giorno, working on getting his snug suit on and getting him in something more comfortable, “Honestly, we should've expected that. If his hands got chopped off, he would write with his _blood_ if it meant he could get his work done faster.” Mista moved Giorno's arms out of his sleeves, and sat him up to throw one of his own shirts on him, “You did wash that, right?” Bucalletti placed the cloth on Giorno's forehead when he was situated flat on the bed.

Mista looked at Bucalletti, unimpressed, “I did my laundry yesterday, in fact.” 

“Good.” Bucalletti sighed, and pushed back Giorno's undone bangs, glancing at Mista, “I'll have Narancia bring up some food in a bit. If he wakes up, try to get a little down him. If not, eat it yourself. We'll have to stay with him until he gets better. You're on guard duty. Let one of us know if you need to switch.” 

Mista waved his hand absentmindedly, “Eh, I'm sure I'll be fine. Since he'll probably be delusional from being so ill, I'm sure he won't be that hard to take care of.” Mista paused, “Hopefully.” 

“I'll ask Abacchio to make him some tea—.” Bruno paused, “That might not be a good idea. I'll ask Fugo instead. I'll be in Giorno's office, trying to lighten his load. I expect you can...take care of him.” 

“What's _that_ supposed to mean?!” 

Bucalletti gave a small smile, “Whatever you want it to mean, Mista.” 

~–~

Mista had been lying on the bed next to Giorno, Pink Dark Boy resting on his chest, half-asleep, before he jolted awake at the sound of Giorno waking up. 

“Mista...what...” He croaked out, and on top of everything he had, at least he didn't have a sore throat.

“You're sick, and you tried to fake me out and then get back to work. So now we have to guard over you until you get better.” Mista closed the manga, and put it on the end table next to the bed, “And you better not say this is unnecessary! You look like hell.” 

Giorno seemed unfazed, before he tumbled out of the bed and bolted for the nearest bathroom. Mista reached out to grab him, before he winced, hearing the painful retching sounds coming out of Giorno's personal bathroom. He hurried into the bathroom, getting down on his knees and rubbing Giorno's back, holding back his hair. 

“Uh, th-there, there. You'll be okay. Um.” Mista winced again when another horrible retching sound came out of Giorno. He rubbed circles on his back while the other held back his hair. He heard Giorno dry heave a few times, before he flushed and got upright. 

“That was...awful.” Giorno wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and looked at Mista, pasty-faced and dull eyes. 

“I guess eating something is out of the question. Do you want some like, juice, or something?” 

Giorno nodded, “I desperately want to get this awful taste out of my mouth.” Giorno offered no resistance when Mista scooped him up. He kicked the door open wider with his foot, and walked towards the bed, gently placing his sick boss on it. 

He pulled his revolver out of his pants, and opened the chamber, calling out #5, “Hey, go tell Bucalletti that Giorno needs something to drink. And bring some food up too, I'll share it with you guys.” 

“Of course!” Mista walked over and opened the door just enough so #5 could get out, whizzing down the hallway and towards Mista's senior. 

Giorno looked at him, confused, “Why didn't you go get it yourself?”

“Oh no, I'm not falling for that again. Last time I left you alone you snuck out to go work some more. Narancia found you, collapsed. Thanks to that trick, I'm babysitting you.” 

“I see. I thought I would be fine, but...” Giorno grasped his stomach, “Do you think I could use Gold Experience to heal this?” 

Mista laughed, “No, I don't think so. If you can try and get a little food down I'll give you some pain medication. I think we have ibuprofen.” He sat down next to Giorno and pushed his bangs back, kissing his forehead, “Don't pull that again, we're all really worried about you.”

“I'm sorry for worrying you. I just thought I could handle this myself.” 

“Giorno we're a team. We back each other up, and we take care of each other. Don't give me any of that bull.” 

Giorno gave a small smile, “I suppose you're right. I'm sorry.” 

“Just don't do that again, jeez. Bucalletti was really worried!” 

Giorno started to speak, but closed his mouth and stayed silent. The silence lasted for a few minutes until there was knock on the door, and Fugo arrived with a small tray of food and drinks, “Bucalletti is still covering for Giorno, so he told me to fix up some food. Don't worry, Narancia didn't touch any of it.” Fugo shuddered, “I still can't believe he undercooked spaghetti. How does that even _happen_.” 

Mista shrugged, “Dunno. Thanks for the food, though.”

Fugo nodded, “If you need to switch out with somebody, Narancia is your best bet. He doesn't really have anything to do today. Abacchio and I have to run out to Venice to meet with some people from Speedwagon, since Bucalletti is busy and Giorno is sick and Narancia is...Narancia.” Fugo gave Giorno a sympathetic smile, “Hope you get better soon, Giorno.” 

“I appreciate it, Fugo. I hope the meeting goes well.”

“Abacchio will probably handle most of the talking.” He rubbed the back of his head, “I gotta go. See you guys later.” 

The door closed behind Fugo, and Mista turned to Giorno, “So are you going to eat or am I gonna have to get some food down you myself?” 

“I think I can handle eating myself, Mista.” Giorno smiled, “But I appreciate it.” 

Ten minutes later, Giorno was on his knees in front of the toilet again. 

“So I guess getting some food down you was a bad idea?” Mista smiled nervously.

Giorno glared at him.

Mista had taken the liberty of eating what Giorno hadn't thrown up, letting the pistols take whatever they wanted. Giorno had fallen asleep from fatigue soon afterward, his head in Mista's lap. He turned his head when there was a knock on the door, before Bucalletti walked in.

“I managed to get through most of the reports. How's Giorno doing?” 

Mista shrugged, “He's been asleep for a little bit. He threw up what he ate, but I think he's mostly gotten past the worst of it. If we keep an eye on him for a couple more days he should be good to go.” 

Bruno sighed, relieved, “I'm glad. I've had to cancel a few meetings on short notice. Some of them had very creative ways of telling me to go fuck myself.” Bucalletti shook his head, “Regardless, why don't you go rest, Mista? I can take it from here.” 

“Nah, I'm good. Besides, it's kinda nice to be taking care of him like this, you know? Kind of reminds me of the,” Mista cracked a grin, “the “good old days” when we were trying to take out the old boss. When we were supposed to be teaching him, and all that...if that makes any sense.”

“I think I understand.” Bucalletti smiled, and placed his hand on top of Giorno's head, “Make sure he stays rested.”

Mista nodded, “Of course.”

~–~

Two days later, Giorno was still under the weather but far better than he had been previously. He was able to stomach a meal, and his fever had gone down considerably. He had been antsy to get back to work, too antsy, and Mista had to force him down in order for him to rest so he could be at full health; Giorno hadn't appreciated being sat on again.

“All of you worry about me too much.” Giorno had said, before letting out a wheeze as Mista tightened his hold on his stomach.

“And you aren't conscientious enough about your health.” 

Giorno paused, “I didn't even know you knew what that word meant.”

“Me either.” 

Giorno sighed, and shifted in Mista's lap, “I...do appreciate what you've all done for me. It's just...still something I have to get used to, I suppose.” 

Mista rested his chin on Giorno's shoulder, “We're your family, Giorno. And you know I...well.”

Giorno smiled, “I know, Mista.” His smile faltered, before turning to a frown, “Mista, did you sunburn? You feel really warm.”

“No, I've been inside with you for the past few days, I...” 

Giorno looked at Mista, a small smile forming on his lips.

“Oh god dammit.”

~–~

“ _Uuhgghhhhhh_...” 

Mista groaned, and Giorno moved his damp, short hair out of his forehead, pushing it back, “You seem to be enjoying this, Mista.”

Mista was too weak to snap back at him, settling with a dirty glare. Giorno smiled, and kissed his forehead gently. 

“Don't worry Mista, maybe if you eat something you'll feel better.” 

“ _Nooo_...” Mista said weakly. 

Giorno chuckled, “Don't worry. Your family is here to take care of you.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 15: Kakyoin loses a bet. PWP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had like a bunch of fic ideas floating around as well as that other story i'm working on AND another i'm working one for somebody else oops! but happy holidays here is some porn. it is very shameful and very self-indulgent and i am sorry (i'm not really sorry)

“This—this is...” Kakyoin covered his bright red face with the hand that wasn't pulling down fabric, “This is embarrassing.”

“That's kind of the point.” 

Never play poker against Jotaro, Kakyoin had learned. Polnareff and Joseph had been on a visit to Japan, and after a few bottles of alcohol, Polnareff had suggested a friendly game of poker that quickly turned murderously competitive. Jotaro had caught Joseph cheating easily, even without Star Platinum, having known his grandfather too well.

(“He used to cheat at Hanafuda all the time against me and mom.” Jotaro had said once he poured out all the cards in Joseph's sleeve, shuffling them back in the deck, “I was five.”

“Isn't that kind of much, Joestar-san?” Kakyoin had said with a raised eyebrow; the elder Joestar had replied with a sheepish smile.

“Old habits die hard! Holly used to get so mad at me whenever Jotaro caught me.”

“You were cheating against—against a _kid.”_ Polnareff had slurred out. Joseph responded with yet another sheepish smile.)

Joseph and Polnareff had bowed out once Jotaro had amassed enough poker chips to build a small house, but Kakyoin wasn't about to give up so easily. Joseph and Polnareff had watched with great interest as the two competed against each other, both their literal poker faces as unflappable as possible. Joseph had taken over for dealing in lieu of Kakyoin, who Jotaro hadn't trusted to be so true to his word when he nearly clawed off Polnareff's face for having a full house.

Jotaro and Kakyoin had stared at each other for what seemed like hours, before one of them had made a move, “We're not getting any younger, here!” Polnareff had said, banging on the table in an attempt to make something happen, the wine in his glass sloshing over a bit onto the table.

Kakyoin rolled his eyes, “You'd be as contemplative as I am right now if you were any good at poker. You only got that full house by sheer dumb luck.” Kakyoin drawled, before staring at his hand; four of a kind was a good thing to be sitting on. There were only two hands Jotaro could have that would beat it, and Kakyoin felt very comfortable about his odds.

Jotaro had been quiet for about ten minutes, before he shoved in his entire collection of chips into the middle of the table, completely outdoing Kakyoin, the plastic clicking against each other and some falling off the large piles, “I raise.”

“Are you fu—I don't have that many chips, I can't bet the deed to my parents' house, and I don't have a car to bet either. What the hell do you want me to raise with?” 

Jotaro seemed to realize the predicament, tossing the idea over in his head for a few minutes before finally speaking,“We could make a bet.” All three of them had looked quizzically at Jotaro, before Joseph and Polnareff turned to Kakyoin. 

“Considering I don't have many options, let's hear it.” 

“That's the last of your chips. Put those in and this will be the last hand we show. If my hand beats yours,” Jotaro paused, “ _If my hand beats yours you have to crossdress the next time we have sex.”_ He had spoken Japanese rapidly enough that Joseph couldn't understand him, but Kakyoin, whose eyes went wide and face went completely red, understood him perfectly. 

Kakyoin put his cards face-down on the table, his face terribly hot and terribly red and buried in his hands; Polnareff was looking quickly between the two of them, and Jotaro looked entirely too smug, “Hey! What'd...what'd you say?”

Jotaro barely glanced at Polnareff, “This is between Kakyoin and I.” Kakyoin had hardly moved, face still bright red, hands still covering his face.

“I didn't really catch what he said. Something about clothes, I think?” Joseph said, “So it's up to Kakyoin to decide whether or not he wants to take it.” 

Kakyoin managed to compose himself enough to lift his head from his hands, though his face was still completely red, “Fine. If my hand beats yours, you can't wear your hat for an entire month. That's...the only thing I can come up with at the moment.” 

Jotaro curled his hands around his cards, crumpling them slightly, “...That seems a bit excessive.”

Kakyoin glared, “Then what the _hell_ was yours supposed to be?” 

Jotaro inhaled sharply, and stared evenly at Kakyoin, “...All right.” 

Kakyoin glanced at his own hand; unless Jotaro managed to have an enormous amount of luck on his side, Kakyoin was fairly certain he would win, unless Jotaro had tried to bluff him out of it, but considering how good his own hand was, it would have to be a damn good bluff.

“I raise.” 

Kakyoin guffawed, “What? What else can you _possibly_ raise?” 

_“It has to be a maid outfit.”_

Kakyoin's face flushed again, receiving looks from Joseph and Polnareff, but he cleared his throat and stood his ground, “Fine. I...don't really know what to raise with, though.” He turned to Joseph and Polnareff, “Is there anything either of you want from him?” 

“I'd like it if he started treating Holly with more respect.” Joseph said gruffly, and Kakyoin could notice Jotaro barely holding back the urge to roll his eyes. 

“All right. You have to stop swearing at Holly-san, then.” 

“...Fine. Are you ready to show?” 

“Yeah.” Kakyoin grinned, “Prepare yourself, Jotaro.” 

“I'm sure. On three. One, two, three.” Kakyoin laid down his hand showing his four of a kind with a smug, satisfied look on his face, before his eyes widened and his jaw dropped at Jotaro's royal flush. Joseph and Polnareff—mostly Polnareff—howled in excitement, and Kakyoin buried his head in his hands, absolutely defeated. Jotaro kicked his chair back and placed his feet up on the table, crossing his arms and had an air of superiority covering him.

“H-How did...you...” Kakyoin spluttered, and Polnareff howled with laughter.

“Oh right, we—we never told him about the first D'arby fight, did we?” Polnareff spilled more wine on the table, slapping his knee, “Maybe that would've been helpful information!” 

Kakyoin turned to Jotaro, eyebrows furrowed, “I beat a poker master and won back the souls of everybody by bluffing.” 

“That—why did you not tell me this before I started playing against you in poker?!”

“I forgot.” 

Kakyoin buried his head in his hands, and felt Joseph's hand on his shoulder, “Well, I'm sure whatever bet you had with him isn't too bad. Can't say I understand why you're so embarrassed, though.”

Kakyoin wanted to curl up in a ball and die.

~–~

“You were the one who agreed to it.” 

Kakyoin glared at him, “I didn't really expect you to go to these...lengths.” These custom-made, custom-bought, silk stockings with ribbons on them lengths, “It's just...really?”

“I couldn't find a regular one in your size.” 

_What the hell qualifies as a “regular one”,_ Kakyoin thought, “Why...this...of all things?” It slowly clicked in Kakyoin's brain as Jotaro averted his eyes, “You...”

“I thought it would be the...only way to get you to agree.” 

“You've been...wanting to do this?”

Jotaro nodded, face tinting red just barely, “Yes.”

The words Kakyoin tried to say sounded more like a gurgling of vowels and consonants before he finally took a deep breath, “Okay. Just...” He held out his hand, “Here.” He covered his face with his other hand, feeling the weight of the dress plus everything else put in his hand. He silently stood up and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind him. 

_Of all the things that I would have suspected I would be doing at this point in time, this is not one of them._ Kakyoin held up the dress in front of him, the stockings and other accessories falling and clacking to the floor. He hesitated, realizing that he would eventually have to get naked. He pulled his simple black t-shirt over his head, letting it crumple on the floor. His jeans were next, and he was thankful that he could keep his boxers on until he saw the lacy black underwear and then he decided suicide would be the more preferable option.

He uncomfortably slid out of his boxers before sliding the barely large enough underwear on. The fabric felt nice, at least, but his crotch felt incredibly cramped. Next came the dress, which was embarrassing and awful. It was silk, or something like it, and the corset-like interlace made him extremely nervous. The sleeves were rounded and slightly poofy, with ruffling around the end. The white apron was ruffled as well on the top and bottom, with a small black bow on top, dead center. If he was a girl, it would be a perfectly cut display for cleavage. The slip had a strange design around the hem that reminded him of one of his mother's doilies. 

He slipped it on over his head, letting out a sigh of relief when minimal adjustment was required. He looked down, and saw everything else he was required to put on, including a headpiece, some sort of weird neckpiece, silk stockings, and black mary-janes and Kakyoin was ready to hurl himself out a window. 

_I am comfortable in my masculinity I am comfortable in my masculinity,_ he mentally repeated to himself, feeling more parts of himself wither and die as he slid the silk stockings on; they felt weird against his somewhat hairy legs. He slipped his feet into the shoes, nearly tripping and falling because heels were difficult. He bent over and picked up the neckpiece, looking at it curiously before finding out that it stretched, and got it over his head and around his neck. All that was left was the headpiece for the cherry on top of the shame cake. 

It felt strange and unnatural as he looked in the mirror. An outfit like this would be more suited on a busty, curvy girl; Kakyoin was all straight lines and limbs. Muscular, of course, what with all the fighting in Egypt, and even then he kept in shape, but no semblance of a girlish shape. Everything about the outfit felt alien and out of place. 

He wobbled slightly, his hand reaching for the doorknob while he covered his face with the other one, embarrassed and emasculated. He turned the doorknob as slow as one could possibly turn a doorknob, the door creaking open slowly but surely. He fumbled out of the bathroom, the heels giving him problems, before standing back out in Jotaro's room. His hand left the doorknob and was pulling down the dress. 

He heard shuffling, then footsteps coming closer, “This—This is...” He pulled down on the dress more, “This is embarrassing.”

“That's kind of the point.” Jotaro took off the hand that was covering Kakyoin's face, entwining their fingers and holding it firmly away from him, “You look nice.” Kakyoin flinched slightly in surprise as he felt Jotaro's hand grope his ass, kneading and squeezing it. Kakyoin buried his face in Jotaro's chest, his hand grasping tightly at his shirt, unable to even look him in the eye. 

“You're such an asshole.” Kakyoin mumbled. Jotaro brought his hand up to Kakyoin's face and brought their lips together. He let go of Kakyoin's hand, using his now-free arm to wrap it tightly around Kakyoin's waist, pulling him close. Jotaro was very much actions more than words, and Kakyoin could very easily feel how much he was enjoying this—it was contrasting to Kakyoin's own horrible shame. He felt Jotaro's hands on his ass, giving a silent cue for Kakyoin to wrap his legs around Jotaro's waist, being lifted up. His arms wrapped around Jotaro's neck, and he squirmed as he felt his ear being nibbled on.

He was slammed up against a wall, hands fisting in the back of Jotaro's shirt as Jotaro kissed along Kakyoin's jaw to his lips, his hands squeezing Kakyoin's ass. Kakyoin fiddled with the hem of Jotaro's shirt before Jotaro pulled away from Kakyoin long enough for him to yank it off. One of Jotaro's hands was moving dangerously close to his inner thigh, and Kakyoin bucked, already half-erect and getting more aroused. Jotaro moved his hand away and Kakyoin made an irritated noise, grabbing him by the hair and kissing him roughly. Jotaro tilted his own head, pushing back Kakyoin's tongue with his own and trying to dominate the kiss. He moved his tongue against Jotaro's, tasting tobacco and coffee. 

“Put me on the bed,” Kakyoin shuddered as Jotaro's lips moved to bite just under his jaw, “And get this shit off of me.” 

A kiss, hard and possessive, before he spoke again, “No.” 

Kakyoin let out a frustrated groan before he felt Jotaro's grip on him tighten, “Why this of,” Kakyoin gasped and shuddered, feeling Jotaro bite and suck a spot under his ear, “Why this of all things?” He made small noise of contentment when Jotaro kissed him once more, feeling his tongue being aggressively pushed back. Jotaro was not one for losing control of a situation, especially when things got heated. One of Jotaro's hands moved from his ass to under his dress, fingers dancing and barely brushing against Kakyoin's erect cock. He tugged one of his nipples, causing Kakyoin to throw his head back and curl his toes in his shoes.

“I thought you would look nice in it.” Jotaro murmured against Kakyoin's skin, before taking his mouth in a possessive, rough kiss once more. The hand under his dressed moved down and he pressed his palm against Kakyoin's cock, rubbing and cupping it and Kakyoin raked his nails down Jotaro's back, digging into the hereditary birthmark. 

“You,” Kakyoin grunted as Jotaro licked his ear before taking it in a gentle bite, “are _ridiculous.”_

There was movement, and he was lowered onto the bed, legs and arms still tightly wrapped around Jotaro. His arms were quickly unraveled when he felt Jotaro trying to move down and only succeeding when Kakyoin's legs were unhooked from his waist. He looked down, panting, as Jotaro was pushing up the dress and pulling the underwear down with his teeth. Kakyoin groaned, fisting his hands in Jotaro's hair. He let out a high-pitched, shaky moan when he felt Jotaro's tongue run up the length of his cock. 

“Drawer in the end table. Grab it.” Jotaro had said, before taking Kakyoin's cock in his mouth. Kakyoin muffled his moans, using Hierophant to unravel and grab the lube in the drawer, handing it to Jotaro. He briefly removed himself from Kakyoin's erection to spread the gel on his fingers, using his arm to spread Kakyoin's knees more, before easing them into Kakyoin, making him writhe. 

He knew instantly where to push in, how far to go, how to curl his fingers just right, and Kakyoin clenched his hands tightly in Jotaro's hair. He had managed to take most of Kakyoin's cock in his mouth in one fell swoop, and his tongue was flat against the underside of his cock, licking as he took more and more of Kakyoin until he had him completely in his mouth. His free hand held down his hip, and Kakyoin's leg was wrapped around Jotaro's back, desperately trying to keep himself down.

He gritted his teeth, his back arching as Jotaro twisted his fingers inside of him. Kakyoin bit his hand, trying to keep his noises to a minimal; Jotaro took his mouth off of him and removed the leg around his back so it was bent on the bed next to him. His fingers still twisting and prodding and deep inside of Kakyoin, moving harder and rougher and Kakyoin's fingers clawed at the blankets below him. He moved up Kakyoin with an irritated look on his face, his fingers teasing and wiggling around as he did so, causing Kakyoin to arch up. 

“Stop being so quiet.” He moved his free hand from Kakyoin's hip and took his hand out of his mouth, entwining their fingers together and placing it above his head. Kakyoin unintentionally obeyed as Jotaro pressed up roughly inside of him, moaning Jotaro's name loudly. 

Jotaro leaned down to kiss him, before moving down and biting on and around his exposed collarbones, his fingers moving in and out of Kakyoin hard and quick. Kakyoin used his free hand to pull Jotaro up to kiss him, biting and sucking his lip and feeling his tongue intertwine and tease his own. He let out a small noise of surprise when Jotaro removed his fingers and moved the hand that held Kakyoin's arm above his head to his side; Kakyoin arched his back and Jotaro wrapped an around around him. 

“Are you— _nn.”_ Kakyoin shuddered as he felt Jotaro's teeth on his ear, “Are you planning on taking this off of me?”

“No.” 

Kakyoin gave an irritated groan and threw his arm over his face before he felt his knees being spread apart again, the underwear being pulled down and off his legs and tossed somewhere in the room. He heard a zipper being undone and the jingling of Jotaro's belts as he pulled his pants and briefs down, heard an uncapping, a squirting sound, and he could feel his heartbeat in his ears. Kakyoin moved his arm up just a bit, and met eyes with Jotaro briefly, before trailing them down his muscular body. He widening his eyes slightly as he realized just how hard Jotaro was. He could hear Jotaro's quiet pants as he grabbed a pillow, and Kakyoin lifted himself up slightly, allowing it to be placed under the small of his back. 

The dress was pushed up around his stomach, and Kakyoin took a sharp breath when he felt the penetration. The arm over his face was taken off, Jotaro bringing up his hand to his lips and kissing his palms and knuckles before intertwining their fingers on the bed. Kakyoin wrapped his legs tightly around Jotaro's midsection, the heels of his shoes clacking together loudly. 

Jotaro's features had softened; his face was tinted red and his eyes were hazy with heavily dilated pupils—the green almost indistinguishable. His eyebrows furrowed together, his eyes not leaving Kakyoin's face. His free hand was being used to spread Kakyoin's legs apart wider, gritting his teeth as he slowly made his way completely inside. He heard a shaky moan come out of Kakyoin, and he leaned down to kiss him, gently moving his tongue against Kakyoin's before breaking off the kiss and making his way to his ear, running his tongue around the shell.

“Can I move?” Jotaro asked quietly, and Kakyoin nodded. 

“Yes, _please.”_

He was going slow, unusually slow, and Kakyoin wrapped his legs around his waist tighter in an effort to tell him to go faster, but Jotaro either was oblivious or was ignoring it. He let go of Kakyoin's hand, using it to spread his legs even more as he moved into a semi-kneeling position, and Kakyoin reached up, digging his fingers in Jotaro's shoulders. Kakyoin's eyes were shut tight, and the clothes he had forced on himself were in near-disarray. The dress was bunched up around his waist and stomach, his stockings wrinkled and falling down his legs, and the headpiece was almost completely off his head. 

“Open your eyes.” 

Kakyoin did as he was told with some embarrassment. Jotaro's hazy eyes bore down into his, and he thrusted faster and harder in an instant. Kakyoin arched his back and groaned loud, louder than he usually was. Jotaro leaned over and kissed him once more, not even allowing Kakyoin to fight back. One of his hands moved up from his leg and under the dress, pinching one of his nipples, and Kakyoin moaned into the kiss. Jotaro removed his other hand, wrapping it around Kakyoin's back and pulling him closer so that their chests were touching. 

“H-Harder— _fuck.”_ Kakyoin sank his nails in Jotaro's back, causing the taller to grunt and thrust harder and faster. Jotaro's hand removed itself from under Kakyoin's dress, pushing down one of the dress sleeves and sinking his teeth into his shoulder, biting and sucking the pale skin. He could feel Jotaro shift slightly, and then thrust hard and deep. Kakyoin felt his vision scatter, and he raked his nails down Jotaro's back harder. Jotaro seemed to understand the silent signal, and drove in the same spot harder and faster. 

Kakyoin could barely form words, sticking to brokenly moaning Jotaro's name over and over. A heat was beginning to coil inside of him, and he weakly bucked up against Jotaro, groaning as his cock rubbed against Jotaro's abdomen. Jotaro moved a hand in-between their bodies and jacked, and Kakyoin gripped onto him tighter. His thumb rubbed frantically against the head of Kakyoin's cock. He let out a cry surrounding Jotaro's name, and Jotaro cut him off, kissing him and mingling his tongue against Kakyoin's.

Jotaro's thrusts were getting more and more erratic, but he attempted to keep the tugs on Kakyoin's cock at an even and fast pace. Jotaro removed his arm from around Kakyoin's back and let him drop slightly to the bed before leaning over and pressing against him, knocking the headpiece off of Kakyoin as he fisted his fingers in Kakyoin's hair and kissed him, hard and passionate and Kakyoin felt dazed and absentminded in the uncharacteristic display of romance. The kiss broke, and Jotaro stared into Kakyoin's barely opened eyes, almost urging him to finish. 

The pressure released, and his entire body shuddered hard as he felt an overwhelming euphoria overcome his body; he vaguely registered Jotaro grunt as he spilled into his abdomen and hand. Jotaro gritted his teeth and gave a few more hard, quick thrusts before finishing inside Kakyoin, biting his shoulder as he did so. 

Jotaro slumped over, bracing himself on one of his arms. Their breathing synced together as they attempted to catch their breath, their foreheads touching. Kakyoin weakly reached up and put his hand on the side of Jotaro's face and brought their mouths together in a gentle but intimate kiss.

Jotaro removed himself from Kakyoin before lying on his back on the bed in a tired heap. Kakyoin used Hierophant to grab the nearby box of tissues, and handed them to Jotaro, who took them gratefully. He wiped off his hand and stomach, and used Star Platinum to trash the used tissues. 

A few minutes of lying silently, Jotaro managed to push himself up into a sitting position, and Kakyoin managed to get himself up on his elbows. Jotaro put his feet to the ground and stumbled off the bed, nearly tripping and falling flat on his face. He shimmied out of his pants and let them drop to the floor unceremoniously, before moving to Kakyoin and offering a hand to help him out of the bed. Kakyoin took it gratefully and staggered off the bed before having Jotaro's help to get into a standing position. 

They walked into the bathroom and Jotaro kissed him gently as he removed everything Kakyoin had been required to wear. The dress was easily yanked over his head, and Kakyoin kicked off his shoes, lifting his leg up one at a time to grab the stockings by the toes and tug them off. Jotaro stretched off took off the neckpiece, and Kakyoin hummed contentedly as Jotaro wrapped an arm around his waist and kissed his neck.

They stepped into the fairly spacious shower and washed each other in silence for a few minutes before Kakyoin spoke up, “I'm never playing poker against you again.” 

“It wasn't that bad.” 

“You weren't the one who _lost.”_ Kakyoin buried his head in his hands, his wet hair sticking to his fingers, “Of all the things you wanted to try.”

Kakyoin looked up from his hands when he felt his hair being gently pushed back. Jotaro brought their lips together and wrapped his arm around Kakyoin's waist, pulling him close. He kissed Kakyoin gently and weirdly tenderly as a sign of repentance. 

That, or he was simply trying to get Kakyoin to stop talking. Kakyoin was willing to bet on the latter. 

~–~

Two weeks later Jotaro had brought back a school girl uniform for them to “try out” and Kakyoin had punched him in the face.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 16: Noriko Kakyoin and Jouko Kujo get it on. Genderbend PWP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys. i'm sorry about the lack of updates. recently we had to have my cat put to sleep so it's been difficult writing silly little stories like this. for the most part i try to update when i can get an idea and when i can execute it well, but i've been having difficulty writing lighthearted stuff for the most part. a lot of my time is going to be put into the jotaro/kakyoin fic i keep talking about. it's at 40+ pages in openoffice and i'm not even close to done. 
> 
> i didn't wanna leave you hanging so here's another silly PWP that i wrote. genderbends haha genderbends are great. it's very short, the shortest i've written for this, and i really just wanted to get something out for you guys to read since you've waited so long. i'm so sorry for the wait you guys but please be patient with me because i'm still working on a ton of things so there might be even longer gaps. i really appreciate you guys looking at my story! i don't plan on leaving you in the dust, just a bunch of things are kind of getting in the way. again just be patient and i'll try to do what i can from here.
> 
> :)
> 
> p.s. jouko was literally the closest thing to a female equivalent i could find to jotaro. please correct me if i'm wrong (which is extremely likely).

“Pin your hair back, it keeps getting in my face.” 

Jouko scowled, “You already threw my hat somewhere in the room.” 

“The rim kept stabbing me in the forehead what else did you want me to— _mm.”_ She leaned down to capture Noriko's lips, wrinkling her nose at the gloss that was getting on her lips. Noriko fiddled with the hem of Jouko's tank top before she swatted away her hands and pulled the top off herself, leaving her in her black bra and short skirt. 

“Seriously, how can you have hair that long?” Noriko looked to her end table and fiddled around, trying to find a hair tie and coming up short. She sighed, and gave a surprised yelp when Jouko worked on pulling her skirt down, catching her mouth once more and shoving her tongue inside, tasting cinnamon as she ran her tongue against Noriko's. She briefly unstraddled Noriko so she could throw the skirt somewhere in the messy room and ran her eyes down to her lacy white panties with stars all over them.

Noriko lifted herself up and wrapped her legs around Jouko's waist, her arms going around her neck. Jouko moaned when Noriko sucked on a sensitive spot on her neck, and she shakily moved her hands up to the Noriko's white button-down, practically ripping it open and pushing her matching bra up, pinching her nipples. Noriko let out a cry and detached her mouth from Jouko's neck. She briefly removed her arms and pulled the shirt off and Jouko went to work unhooking her bra, letting her fair-sized breasts fly free. 

She kissed down Noriko's neck while one hand tangled in her short, cherry-red hair. She replaced the old bite marks with new ones and stopped briefly to nip at her collarbones before moving down further and taking one of her pert nipples in her mouth and wrapping her tongue around it, biting very gently. Her other hand worked on the other one, pinching and teasing and Noriko moaned her name, her hands digging into Jouko's long black hair. 

She pushed Noriko back on the bed once more, moving back up and taking her lips again, and Noriko fiddled with Jouko's bra before finally unclasping it, and her large breasts bounced as the bra was removed. Their breasts rubbed together and Noriko let out a moan as her hands moved down lower to get her skirt off, and Jouko eventually kicked it off when it was down low enough. Jouko nibbled on Noriko's bottom lip before moving to her neck and sucking, and Noriko unhooked her legs from around Jouko as she felt her fingers trailing down to her panties, pulling them down until Noriko could kick them off. 

Noriko let out a cry as Jouko's finger pushed slowly inside her. She shuddered as it began to move in and out slowly, and shut her eyes tightly as Jouko took her mouth again, twisting her tongue against Noriko's. She wrapped her arms tightly around Jouko's neck, pulling slightly at her hair. A second finger made its way inside of her and Noriko let out a loud, wanton moan against Jouko's lips. Jouko pulled away and pushed back her long bang, kissing her forehead before placing hers against Noriko's. Her fingers began to move quickly, and her thumb moved around before finding her clitoris and rubbing it quickly. 

“You're shaking...” Jouko murmured, peppering kisses all over her face before moving to her ear and biting above her cherry earrings, running her tongue around the shell. Noriko dug her nails into Jouko's shoulders, leaving deep crescent marks. Jouko moved down to her neck, sucking once more, biting the smooth skin, her long fingers moving quickly and evenly out of Noriko as her thumb rubbed her clitoris. 

Noriko shuddered and let out a cry, thrusting against Jouko's hand. Her fingers dug into her hair, tugging at Jouko's long, thick locks. Jouko moved her free hand to Noriko's breast, pinching and pulling her nipple and Noriko dug her teeth into Jouko's shoulder, another mark sure to form. Jouko hissed and thrust her fingers in deeper, wiggling around inside of Noriko and she let out a strangled cry surrounding Jouko's name, her body tensing up. 

She thrusted erratically against Jouko's fingers as she came, fluids covering Jouko's fingers as she took them out, wiping them on the bed sheets. She put her hands around Noriko's face and brought their red lips together, and Noriko limply grasped at her wrist, pushing Jouko's tongue back weakly. Noriko went lax as she tried to regularize her breathing, short pants slowly turning into more even ins and outs. Jouko laid on her side, propped up on her elbow as she watched her try to regain her senses. 

Slowly, after a few minutes, Noriko's breathing turned to normal and she eyed Jouko before a mischievous smile made its way to her lips. She leaned off the mattress, sifting through something that was under her bed. Jouko's eyes widened as Noriko kissed her, taking her bottom lip in her mouth and sucking on it. Noriko worked on pulling down Jouko's panties, and Jouko kicked her legs around until they were finally off and hanging on the end of the bed. 

Jouko let out a strangled cry as a long object was slowly pushed inside of her, looking at Noriko with squinted, hazy eyes. Noriko's pupils were dilated and her breathing hitched as she watched Jouko bite her lip and dig her fingernails into her palms, before grabbing the side of Noriko's face and pulling her closer for a kiss, pushing her tongue back and taking control before faltering and moaning as the object was fully sheathed inside of her. Noriko tangled their bodies together as she began to work up a pace, her lips and tongue moving against Jouko's. 

Jouko did her best to keep her composure, her teeth gritted and her eyes shut tightly, but her eyes widened as she felt Noriko stop moving the object and flip a switch, causing it to start vibrating. Her hand now free, her slim fingers moved and began to rub Jouko's clitoris, and Jouko wrapped one of her arms around Noriko's waist and pulled her closer, moaning as their breasts rubbed against each other. Her other hand was tangled into Noriko's red hair, tilting her head to get into her mouth deeper. 

“Don't hold back...” Noriko said quietly, politely, against her lips, and Jouko moaned loudly. Noriko moved down to her neck and bit, running her tongue around the spot and up Jouko's neck, marking another spot. She set the vibration up higher, and Jouko let out a cry, her hand tightly grasping Noriko's hair. 

“Fuck, Noriko, _fuck.”_ She swore loudly and Noriko took her lips again. Jouko could feel her mind going blank, feel the pressure inside of her begin to come to a boiling point. 

She came with a shudder and a groan wrapped in Noriko's name, thrusting weakly against the toy inside of her. Noriko reached down to turn it off, removing it from her slowly. She rested her head on Jouko's large breasts, listening to her rapid heartbeat and equally rapid breathing. Jouko's death grasp in her hair loosened, her hand gently resting on the back of her head. 

Noriko blindly reached around before tangling their fingers together, and Jouko kissed the top of her head before speaking, “You could've warned me.” 

“I just grabbed the first one I saw.” 

Jouko rolled her eyes, “And that one happened to vibrate?”

A rhetorical question, but Noriko answered regardless, “Oh I'll be sure to not use it next time, you seemed to hate it so much.” 

Noriko let out a surprised squeak when Jouko unexpectedly caught her lips. She smiled against them, and Jouko seemed to do the same. It was fairly quick and gentle, and Jouko pulled away before pulling Noriko closer and brought the covers up over them. 

Noriko listened to Jouko's breathing even out into deep, stable breaths before falling into a dream consisting of stars, cherries, and Jouko.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not finished with it since i've got a couple more ideas bumping around in my head but i've got two big ol' stories i'm working on right now that are also jojo. i have a couple of silly fics on my tumblr which i linked in my profile, if you wanna read it. i will be trying to get those stories up as soon as i can.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 17: Giorno wishes to get Dio's blessing regarding his new relationship. Mista just wants to get out of his house alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kind of short! but i managed to add another thing. i'm working on like 20 million different fics at the moment but here is a shot lil' thing i worked on that i really like!!!

“G-Giorno I'm not entirely sure about this.” Mista rubbed the back of his head as they stood at the front door of Giorno's house, “Last time I was over I'm pretty sure he tried to stab me.” 

Giorno gave him the least impressed look he could possibly muster, “Mista, honestly. He simply wants the best for me, even though he can be a bit...controlling.” He placed his hand on his shoulder, “I'm sure everything will go fine.” 

Being friends with somebody like Giorno was a blessing disguised as a quiet, somewhat socially-awkward teenage boy. Mista'd been skeptical at first when Bruno had brought him over to his house while they were screaming over Mario Party, with Fugo's hands beginning to tighten around Narancia's neck. Giorno had an air of grace and seemed to take the more childish antics of the group in stride, falling in easily with most everybody but Abbacchio, but he was an asshole and difficult to get along with anyway. 

He was a transfer student and didn't have a lot of friends, so Bruno had offered a hand to show him around and get him situated. He almost seamlessly fell into the group after that. 

They had been marathoning a list of movies they'd all compiled a couple days before, with everybody mostly asleep on each other by the time the sixth or seventh one rolled around. Mista managed to stay awake the longest, still eagerly shoving popcorn in house mouth before Giorno's head lolled onto his shoulder. A chorus of “ _no homo”_ ran through his head before Giorno had fallen on him more, his head content in staying in Mista's lap while Mista's face burned bright red as he debated whether to wake him up or let him sleep or try to adjust him without waking him up and _oh god he's rubbing his head no no stop getting a boner._

Giorno had woken up and looked at Mista groggily before realizing his position and shooting off of him lightning fast, curling up against the corner of the couch. He had looked absolutely mortified, like a ruffled cat, his blue eyes staring at Mista as wide as possible. He stammered over apologies and Mista had tried to say it was okay, it was an accident, no that's just my phone in my pants don't worry. 

They had avoided each other for two days before Bruno had shoved them in a closet together. They came out two hours later much more disheveled than before. Giorno hadn't even realized he was wearing Mista's jacket. Mista stammered out an invitation to dinner and a movie and Giorno choked on his words before saying yes. 

Mista snapped out of his thoughts as Giorno took out his keys. He shoved his house key in the door and twisted, pushing open the door. Mista stepped inside nervously after Giorno, clinging to him in slight fear. Giorno slipped off his shoes and placed them on the welcome mat, beckoning Mista to do the same. 

It had been far from the first time he'd been over to Giorno's house but an awful sinking feeling in his stomach made him feel like it would be his last time. Giorno's dad was _terrifying_ —close to two meters tall with eyes that pierced your soul and nails that could claw into your skin. Mista vaguely recalled when he had almost sliced his fingers off with a pizza cutter once. He had told Giorno, who had simply laughed and shaken his head.

Now he had to let him know he was dating his son. He wish he had prepared his will sooner. 

_There's still plenty of time to back out just open the door and bolt._ Mista stood firmly in place, still mildly (extremely) terrified.

“ _Padre!_ I'm home!” Giorno tugged on Mista's hand and half-dragged him along into the study, where Dio was more than likely to be. Mista felt clammy and uneasy, especially as the neared the dark wood door that led to where Dio was.

“Giorno we really don't have to—.” 

Giorno shot him a blank look and knocked on the door, “Father, are you in there? I have some important news to tell you.” 

A muffled, “Come in, Haruno” was heard, and he twisted the doorknob as Mista felt himself wither and die inside. 

Giorno tugged Mista inside, who let out a barely audible noise that sounded like _“noooo”._ Dio ushered him to the plush red couch opposite of himself, his eyes not leaving the pages of his book. He obeyed his father's wordless orders, gently pushing Mista down on the couch and sitting next to him. Dio closed his book with one hand, setting it on the table in front of him. He grabbed the nearby glass of red wine and tilted the alcohol into his mouth, thumb and fingers leaving marks on the glass.

Dio's eyes turns to the two teenagers and light up in an eerie joy as he sees Mista. Giorno keeps on an air of maturity and looks as oblivious as possible while Mista visibly shrinks in the couch. Dio's legs cross, resting his elbow on the armrest and cupping his cheek in his hand, his long fingernails tapping just under his eye. 

Mista internally screamed. 

“Guido Mista, it is so _good_ to see you again.” Mista let out a strangled noise that sounded only barely like an affirmation. Giorno seemed pained, before smiling politely at his father. 

“Father, I brought Mista here because this information involves him as well. I...well, you're aware of all of the friends I've made since I've been here. You've met them all, correct?”

Dio tapped on his temple a few times before nodding, “I believe so. It's pleasing to know, Haruno.” His eyes settled on Mista, “What is it you needed to tell me?” 

“I...well.” Giorno cleared his throat, “Mista and I are...together. Dating, that is.” 

Dio's eyebrow rose, his curiosity piqued, “Really. For how long?”

“A week or so, father. Forgive me for not speaking up sooner, we've both been very busy with school.” “Both” was a bit generous; Giorno was the one who was the one who studied his ass off night after night while Mista played video games and only did his homework five or so minutes before class was about to start.

Dio steepled his fingers, a smirk on his lips, “Haruno, may I have a moment to speak with Mista alone?” Mista choked back a noise of pure fear.

Giorno looked briefly shocked, before a look of confusion settled on his face, “I...well. Of course, father.” He stood up, beginning to walk towards the door, “I'll go get started on dinner, if that's all right?” 

“Of course. This won't take long.” Giorno nodded before looking at Mista pitifully, walking out and closing the door behind him. 

Mista stared at Dio without blinking, trying to be as brave as he could; Dio was probably able to smell his fear. He watched as he stood up slowly, holding his arms behind his back as he paced back and forth, shooting Mista a few curious looks as Mista felt his lifespan shorten and shorten. He gulped loudly, before willing himself to calm his nerves.

“Is. Is there something you. Um. Wanted. Sir?” 

“There is.” His voice as as smooth as silk, as if he wasn't planning on sticking a knife through his throat, which Mista was betting he totally was, “Tell me, Mista. Do you care about Haruno, or Giorno, as you call him?”

Mista blinked in rapid succession, “Of course—Yeah. I do. I care about him a lot. Even before all of. Um. All of this. Stuff. He was one of my closest friends.” 

Mista froze up as Dio stopped pacing and moved closer to him, sitting beside him on the couch and crossing his legs. He rested his staggeringly muscular arm on the top of the couch above Mista's head and glanced down at him. Mista dug his fingernails into his palms as a mantra of _“I'm going to die”_ repeated over and over in his head.

“I do not hold very many people close to me, however, Haruno is one of the sole exceptions. I, Dio, do not want any sort of grief being caused him due to...” His lips curled into a smirk, “...unsavory companionship.” 

“I. Um. I.” Mista said with all the eloquence of a five-year-old. 

“Keeping him from a relationship with you would not be very fair to him, as you seem to make him quite happy, for reasons I cannot possibly fathom.” He rested his hand on top of Mista's head, and brought their gazes together, “You do intend on keeping him happy, do you not?”

“I. Yes. Uh. Yes. Of course I do. Sir.” He could feel his fear multiply as Dio's hand moved to his chin, his fingernails digging into his cheek as he brought their faces closer together. 

_Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god._

“You understand that there will be...repercussions...should you fail to meet his or my expectations.” His fingernails dug in harder, “Correct?” 

“I. Wouldn't have. Um. Thought otherwise. Sir. Dio sir.” 

“I'm glad we can come to an understanding.” He looked content, which only served to terrify Mista more. His hand let go of his face and Mista let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding in.

“I. I hope I can. Prove myself to you. And your son.” 

Dio's hand rested above Mista's knee, and Mista winced as he felt his fingernails dig into his pants and skin, “I do hope so as well. If you cannot, let me reassure you.” He said, dropping to a dangerous tone, “There will be nothing you can do to worm your way out of facing the consequences.” 

Mista let out an extremely masculine noise that sounded like a strangled, quiet shriek. 

Dio removed his hand as he heard a knock on the door. Mista gasped for air, scooting away from Dio as inconspicuously as he could. Giorno reappeared once more with a dark-skinned priest with him. The priest seemed briefly amused by the scene before bowing politely to the two of them—more to Dio, Mista was assuming.

“Father Pucci has arrived to speak to you, _Padre.”_ Giorno stepped inside and held the door open for Pucci, and the priest stepped inside, seemingly floating towards Dio. 

“I've finished speaking with your friend, Giorno. You have my blessings.” Giorno smiled, a genuine smile that made him look like the youth he was. Mista scrambled up off the couch and headed towards Giorno, grasping his hand tightly. 

“I. I'm...Thank you, father.” Giorno bowed, “I'll be in the kitchen. Is Father Pucci staying for dinner?” 

Dio looked to Pucci, who shook his head, “No.”

“I understand. I'll come call you when dinner is ready.” He bowed once more and shut the door quietly behind him as he left. The smile hadn't left his face as they walked away, practically skipping as he walked to the kitchen. Mista sat down at the large oak table as Giorno hummed, pots and pants clanking together as he began to prepare food. He held his head in his hands, failing to stop the shaking in his body.

“I thought I was going to die. I was so sure he was going to kill me.”

Giorno chuckled, “I told you he wasn't that bad. Honestly, you're so scared of him. It's endearing, just a bit.” 

“Well I'm glad my absolute terror for your dad is cute but—.” Giorno kissed Mista on the forehead, before getting back to cooking, “Mmmphm...” Mista buried his face in his arms, face terribly red. 

“I would have stayed with you regardless of what he thought. But I am glad he approves. It makes things that much easier.” Giorno offered him a hand, “Would you like to help me? I can teach you a few things about cooking this way.” 

“I...don't want to burn anything. If I do that might give your dad good reason to kill me.”

Giorno waved his hand absentmindedly, “It's fine, I'll take credit for it. Not like I haven't messed up cooking before. Come over here.” Mista managed to skillfully sauteing spaghetti, managing to cook it with minimal casualties. Giorno seemed impressed, and kissed him on the cheek. 

“Wow I didn't destroy anything.” 

“I'll get started on the meatballs.” Giorno smiled softly, before kissing him on the lips gently, “I am glad you are here.” 

Mista flushed, “I...yeah. Me too.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 18: All Jotaro has left are his memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> probably one of my favorite things i've written?? i barely read over it but wow i really like this. i really like jotaro/kakyoin help i am a mess.

What he feels when he dies is a sense of nothingness. He looks at his hands, his legs, his arms, and sees that he is exactly as he was before his death. He feels light, ephemeral and ethereal, as if he was made of nothing but pure air. He began to walk, float, move forward, confused and sluggish. 

There is white surrounding him, his mind his hazy and his senses deadened as he attempts to collect himself before a crushing realization hits him and all he can think of is how he failed, how he had worked for 20 long years to make a safe future for his daughter, how all his work had lead to his face slashed in half and his body left to rot. He grits his teeth and moves forward, self-loathing and agonizing defeat weighing heavily on his mind as he kept moving through the infinite white. 

He does not cry or wilt, he simply moves forward as the crushing hatred festers quietly inside of him. 

**(“Once** this is all over, what do you plan on doing once we go back?” Kakyoin had asked him once as they sat around a fire, throwing in more sticks as the orange flickered across his face, contrasting heavily against his pale features.

“Graduate. Go to college; maybe in America.” He had finished off his cigarette before he tossed the butt into the pyre, the white paper of the cigarette turning black and scorched.

“College? What would you want to major in?” 

“Astronomy. Biology. Something like that.” He had minimal interest, but had decided to ask out of unusual politeness, “What about you?”

“Ah, I'm not sure. I've always been fairly artistic but my mother always wanted me to go into Engineering. I suppose I'll have time to figure it out once we get back.” 

Jotaro had remembered that conversation as he brought flowers to his grave; red tulips, despite the fact Kakyoin had said yellow acacias were his favorite flower. The florist had expressed shock and had told him the meaning of yellow acacias, and Jotaro had changed his request to a bouquet of red tulips. Nothing Kakyoin did was superfluous, and Jotaro had felt so stupid for not realizing before then. Letting him know now was the least and most he could **do.)**

He kept moving, his vision becoming less foggy—proving to be unnecessary, as all he could see was blinding white. His being felt heavier, if possible, as he trudged onward, unsure of what he was trying to find. His mind was blank, tired and weary from being alone with his thoughts for too long. 

**(The** divorce had gone amicably; they both knew there was nothing they could do to make it work. He had a small suitcase packed with a few essentials and nothing more, having given his now-ex-wife a curt nod as she told him she would have the papers delivered to her lawyer by tomorrow afternoon. 

Jolyne had screamed her throat raw at him before locking herself up in her room. Jotaro heard sounds of glass breaking, loud crashes and had debated going in to talk to her before deciding to leave a note. He made sure to specify that she at least read it before she tore it up.

He drank himself to sleep that night. And the next night. And the next **night.)**

He had spotted a person-shaped black dot on the horizon. He felt sluggish and weary, his legs eventually giving out as he fell to his hands and knees. The white was agonizing, a constant nothingness that burned inside of him. He wasn't sure if what he felt was pain or just a weight that was pulling him down, but it was not something he wanted to deal with.

He looked up. The person was moving closer.

**(He** spent more time than he cared to admit looking through the photo albums of Egypt he had. A mix of Purple Hermit and a regular Polaroid had managed to get as many pictures to fill the two inch thick albums. Half the pictures of Polnareff involved somebody tormenting him, and every picture had Jotaro questioning himself on how he or Kakyoin didn't die of heatstroke while they were in Egypt. 

His eyes stopped on one of the pictures—he and Kakyoin sat on the bed of the truck, before N'Doul. They had been talking quietly, Kakyoin had been smiling. The Polaroid wasn't the best quality, but he could tell what was happening in the next picture clearly. He remembered it more vividly than the picture showed. 

Joseph must've taken it in secret, clearly, as Jotaro didn't remember drawing hearts around the two of them. 

He flipped through the pages more, a picture of all of them posing together before they had dropped Kakyoin off at the hospital, a picture of himself when he had been hit by Sethan, a picture of the defeated Daniel D'arby, a picture of Dio's mansion.

He drank the rest of his beer when he flipped to the last page; three less people and the only ones left looking significantly more world-weary and worn down. A picture of his smiling mother helped ease his mind, but the guilt still ate away at him.

He tossed the beer can and went to go get another **one.)**

He could feel the presence get closer, but he was too tired to move his head to look up. He simply closed his eyes and waited for them to come closer. He felt like lead, or maybe that was the feeling he was projecting onto himself. It was too strange to describe; feeling both heavy and weightless at the same time.

The footsteps were silent as they got closer and closer, finally stopping as they made their way less than a foot away from him. They knelt down to his level, slim fingers reaching up to cup his face gently and lift his head up.

“Jotaro.” 

**(It** wasn't easy but he made due. Throwing himself into research came easy to him, though trying to keep in touch with Jolyne was nearly impossible. He had to go the indirect route and ask his ex-wife, which proved to always be uncomfortable and awkward as possible. 

He had gone to her trial and had immediately noticed something off about the entire ordeal. Somebody had set her up, somebody was trying to use her for some reason; getting to him was the only thing he could think of. 

He had made plans and negotiated until he could get to visit her, try to tell her that she needed to leave and she needed to leave now and that had gone about as well as he thought it would. He'd ended up nearly dead and in a vegetative state but at least she understood how much he cared about her.

She'd gotten so strong, too. He wish he could've seen all of **it.)**

His head is being lifted and he's staring into bright green eyes, a pale face and a mop of red hair that doesn't physically make sense. His hand moves up to take off his hat and Jotaro doesn't know when the tears start coming from his eyes. It's such a foreign feeling and it stings, even as thumbs wipe under his eyes soothingly. 

He brings himself up off his hands and clutches at the one on his face, his face still as unfettered as possible even as tears pour and flow out of his eyes. Lips connect to his forehead, fleeting but loving. Jotaro leans into the hand on his face, his other hand coming up to stroke the scar under Kakyoin's eye. 

He doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms under Kakyoin's and pull their bodies together, his hand tangling in the back of his hair. He could feel him, and it felt right despite given how wrong the situation was. His hands were placed on the side of Jotaro's face, leaning the taller man's head down to press their foreheads together. 

“It's been a long time.” He had said quietly, his thumbs wiping up the rest of Jotaro's tears. 

“Yeah I...” He inhaled sharply, “Yeah. It has.” Jotaro buried his face in Kakyoin's hair, being able to smell him and he didn't even care how little sense it made, he just held onto him tighter.

“Red tulips.” He could feel Kakyoin smile against him, “...I'm glad. I'm surprised you remembered.” 

“I wouldn't forget.” He pressed his lips to the top of his head, “What's your real favorite?” His hand was rubbing up and down his back as his fingers stroked his soft hair.

“Honeysuckle.” 

**(His** funeral had been the worst. His parents looked frazzled and worn, everything about their demeanor as dull and lifeless as their son. He had been asked to speak, to his complete agony, but steeled himself long enough to force out a few words on Kakyoin's behalf. 

He would've done the same for him.

“Ka—Noriaki was a good guy. One of the closest friends I've ever had. There's not a lot I could say that would do him justice.” He breathed in and out slowly, “He deserved better. I'm sorry.”

His parents didn't make any sort of gesture and Jotaro had uncomfortably walked back to where Joseph was standing, watching the casket be lowered into ground. He had a dog when he was younger that had gotten hit by a car two years after he had gotten it. He remembered crying so hard his head hurt and then crying some more. Jotaro remembered how hopeless he felt after his dog had died, and realized how it felt nothing like the wrenching despair he felt now.

He still thought about that dog, too. Her name was **Rosie.)**

Jotaro made no move to try and release Kakyoin from him, but Kakyoin had. He was briefly confused when he squirmed out of Jotaro's hold, his slim hand taking Jotaro's. 

“Come with me. There's more people waiting for you.” He brought Jotaro's hand up and pressed his lips to his knuckles, “Avdul and Iggy...Joseph...Jolyne.”

“Joly—no.” He swallowed hard, “No.” 

He leaned up and pressed his lips to Jotaro's gently, leaning their foreheads together once more, “Come with me. We have time now.” He stood up with the grace and elegance he had even when he was still alive, “It's been too long, Jotaro.” His pale hand was extended to Jotaro. 

Jotaro looked at it before taking a deep breath and clasping it in his own, standing up and tangling their fingers together. He didn't want to keep everybody waiting.

**(“You** still have time to turn back. You don't have to come to Egypt with us.” Jotaro had put out his cigarette in an ash tray, eyes slowly making their way to Kakyoin.

“I know. I want to, though.” He smiled at Jotaro, “Plus, we'll be able to go to school with each other when we get back, right? It'll be nice finally being able to hang out with somebody.” 

Jotaro shrugged, draping his arm over his bent knees, “You've got a hell of a way to make friends.” 

Kakyoin had laughed, before smiling wistfully, “To be honest, you're the first.” He placed his head in his hands, “...I'm glad we're friends. Even if we didn't meet under the best circumstances.” 

“Yeah.” 

Kakyoin looked at him and gave him one of his polite smiles before extending his hand, “In any case, it's nice to formally meet you, Jotaro. It's nice to meet you when I'm finally myself.” 

Jotaro shook his head and rolled his eyes before taking his hand and shaking it, “Nice to meet you too, **Kakyoin.”)**

He could feel himself becoming lighter the further he and Kakyoin walked, their fingers linked together, Kakyoin's head resting on his shoulder. His hand unlinked and went to wrap around Kakyoin's waist, pulling him closer. 

“I've been waiting for a very long time, Jotaro.” Kakyoin muttered, his eyes flickering up to meet Jotaro's.

“I know. Me too.” He leaned down and kissed the top of his head, “We have time now.” 

“I always kept an eye on you.” His fingers went to grasp at the hem of Jotaro's shirt, “I never forgot Egypt.” 

The shadows on the horizon were becoming clearer, distinct features on people being able to be distinguished, “I didn't either.” He squeezed Kakyoin's waist.

Kakyoin looked up at him, “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” 

He leaned down and kissed Kakyoin, too many passed years and missed moment leading up to it.

**(The** grave doesn't exist anymore—nothing in there exists the same anymore, but the area in another world is well-known for its vast field of red tulips, and, if one was lucky enough, a few honeysuckles could be found as **well.)**


End file.
